


Under Moonlit Mercy

by fakeaccunt



Category: Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types, Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Adorable, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Amnesia, Angst and Porn, Awkwardness, Bearded Steve Rogers, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Blood and Violence, Boys In Love, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes has a vagina, Child Marriage, Come Marking, Consent Issues, Cute Kids, Dark, Dark Steve Rogers, Death, Dorks in Love, Dreamsharing, Dubious Consent, Embarrassment, Faerie Bucky Barnes, Fainting, Food Porn, Food is People, Full Moon, Gratuitous Smut, Hermaphrodites, Horror, Hunt Gone Wrong, Hunters & Hunting, Hurt Bucky Barnes, I Really like that Tag, Identity Issues, Identity Porn, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Underage Relationship(s), Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Impregnation, Intersex Bucky Barnes, Killing, M/M, Magic, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Married Couple, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Morning Wood, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, References to Knotting, Rough Sex, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Secret Marriage, Secrets, Seriously These Kids Are Stupid, Shame, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Steve Rogers is a Giant Puppy, Stupidity, Sweet Bucky Barnes, There's A Tag For That, Transformation, Unsafe Sex, Wall Sex, Weird Plot Shit, Werewolf Steve Rogers, Werewolf Turning, Young Love, grumpy steve rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-01-16 11:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 54,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21269969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakeaccunt/pseuds/fakeaccunt
Summary: .oOo.When Bucky manages to escape from the monsters that would torment him, he finds himself under a stranger's protection. The situation is strange to start. What amounts to a castle deep in the woods? A fear on the man that's not meant for himself. But Bucky makes an offer in pure desperation. A last plea to avoid the alternative.Even stranger that he's willing to trust him, and that the man accepts his offer. There's something familiar about him that Bucky can't quite place.And something much... darker..oOo.





	1. Full Moon

**Author's Note:**

> [ *****EXTREMELY IMPORTANT PSA***** ](https://satanherfuckingself.tumblr.com/post/618261298721046528/hayley-atwell-publicly-adored-psychopath)
> 
> So... a little birdie sent me this. As the title suggests, please, please, _please_, click the link and read it. We _need_ to get the word out as fans, and hopefully make some minds change. Something bad happened. Something wrong is being considered something right. And in numbers, we'll have strength, but alone, this will just fall through the cracks...
> 
> _Please _read it, _please_ follow through, _please_ share it and spread the word as much as you can. [Retweet here.](https://twitter.com/Dorit0chriss/status/1262536667807854599) And _thank_ _you_ so much if you do, you have no idea how much every little person reading and reposting this will help. It is so important we get this message out there and noticed.
> 
> And of course~... enjoy the fic ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The full moon has always been a blessing for Bucky.
> 
> The full moon has always been a detriment for Steve...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bitch.
> 
> THIS bitch.
> 
> THIS BITCH.
> 
> Motherfucker. Have I said lately that I get easily fucking distracted? I need help, I need help and some goddamn motherfucking inspiration for the right fics so I can finish these bitches accordingly and stop dicking around, Satan please help me. This is motherfucking ridiculous. And here's the latest porny piece~<3.
> 
> Cause I have no motherfucking self control.
> 
> Lol, this was originally planned to be my sweet little Hallow's Eve piece~<3. I ran into some... technical difficulties, lol. Basically. It grew far too much plot and detail. Because I'm a fucking moron. Like always. But I did at least want to put *some* treats out there for my lovelies. Two to be exact for this All Soul's day~<3<3<3.
> 
> I'm still pretty inspired to work on this and I think I can wrap it up as a nice, eerie November (possibly into December) fic before I get back to working on other things I should be working on and am working on but much slower. So if anyone is interested, do let me know~.
> 
> Or inspire me for some other shit I should be working on cause I should be working on other shit too. That is an option...
> 
> Still no beta...
> 
> Enjoy~<3.

.oOo.

_He had to run..._

Bucky wasn't sure how far his legs would take him. How far they _had_ taken him. Burning pain in them already too much, but he could hear the voices behind him.

_He couldn't let them catch him..._

He couldn't look back, if he tripped he got back up as fast as he could. Cuts, bruises, a few scrapes were _far_ better than what they would do to him. A branch cracking under his bare feet, dead leaves crunching as he kept running. Further and further up, the colder it got. It wouldn't matter.

_He had to get away..._

The cold numbed the pain. Running until he felt snow on his feet, until he couldn't hear them, until he—.

Hit a fucking wall? And fell stumbling back on his ass. He gave a slight groan.

“Ow...”

_He heard a growl._

Looking up, he saw golden eyes staring back at him on an unfriendly bearded face.

_'He'll protect you.'_

_And then he heard them again._

He quickly got up, running to hide, barely taking in his surroundings before he'd taken refuge in this stranger's territory. Anything he could dish out after the fact couldn't be worse than what they would have done to Bucky. And if it came down to it... no matter how his legs protested, he'd keep running...

He paused to stitch up his wounds with what little salve he had, listening... _his magic was gone for the moment, barely residue left to influence nature..._

He heard them... his heartbeat still too quick, trying to calm down.

“_You there... have you seen a boy run through here?”_

“_Define 'boy'.”_

“_... A young man with brown hair and pale skin, he'd be roughly the height of your shoulders.... likely barefoot and bleeding. He's a thief and crimina—.”_

“_No.”_

The man stayed quiet a moment but Bucky could hear the annoyed huff.

“_Are you the owner of this estate?”_

“_Yes. And you're trespassing. Leave.”_

“_I don't think you understand the—.”_

“_**Leave.**”_

More silence...

Bucky was sure he'd hear fighting next but... instead, he simply heard the man shift, maybe sizing up the stranger as he told his men to head out. They probably wouldn't be going far... It got quiet... _All he would need was the full moon to replenish his magic... _After a while, he heard footsteps. Further hiding in the foliage of the bush but peaking out through the spaces, trying to calm his breath...

He wasn't seeing the—.

He couldn't help gasping as he was dragged out of the rose bush, Bucky may have been able to avoid the thorns but the stranger didn't seem to have any care for how they raked his skin. This time, _blue_ eyes seeming to stare at him with a furrowed brow before they widened. And he started pulling Bucky along.

_'He smells like an animal in rut.'_

“You need to leave.”

“No wait! _Please_! I—.”

“It's not safe for you here.”

“_It's not safe for me out there! __**Please**__!_”

He paused, staying quiet a moment.

“You'll have better chances out there.”

“N-no! You don't understand, if they catch me—.”

_'Offer him something.'_

Bucky squeezed his eyes tight, he'd seemed to stop dragging him, waiting for an answer. Every time... those damn sprites... the whispers... but he couldn't deny that they'd helped him thus far... _He just needed one full moon..._

“I just need one night...”

“Take any other night... tonight's not one I can offer...”

“W-wait—_please!_”

Bucky hesitated.

“_I can offer myself!_ I—... I don't have anything else to give but... I—... I can...”

He seemed to stop again, shock on his face before he turned to Bucky once more with a raised brow.

“Is that really what you'd want?”

_No._.. but he... _Anything was better than what they'd do to him... _Bucky couldn't help feeling small under that gaze, blue eyes glancing over him in the tattered clothes he'd stolen...

“Why were you running from them?”

The tears started welling before Bucky could fight it, _then they both heard it._

“Go inside, wait for me.”

Bucky ran at the chance, watching from the windows as he saw the men outside surrounding him, there were less this time but... if he... _if they killed him, nothing would matter. _ He'd be a sitting duck... _but he could still bide his time._ He quickly locked the door, still watching.

_'Don't look!'_

He closed his eyes tight. Trying to hold in the souring feeling in his gut.

_He heard it. The gunshots and then screaming. Fighting. Running. Sickening cracks and bones crunching... _

He held his breath.

_Silence..._

After a moment, opening his eyes...

The man, the owner of this place... he was still outside, chopping wood. Now alone... There was blood on the ground... in the snow... but not much, on him, and his clothes were torn in a few spots. Whatever he'd done to get them to leave... He saw him move a hand over his side and then pull away with red... he must have gotten shot. Then he saw him break a piece of wood with his bare hands. Turning to the window, another flash of gold in his eyes that made Bucky back away.

_What... happened?_

_'You should clean yourself.'_

_'You're dirty.'_

He took a breath at the whispers... he still didn't know what the stranger expected but he'd... if he could stall until the full moon... He glanced at the lock on the door... _he'd make due..._

.oOo.

Steve took a breath calming himself down... he'd grown used to being alone...

“_I can offer myself!”_

That kid... he was desperate...

The fight had settled Steve's blood a bit and his—... but he'd still have to mark him to make sure he'd be safe. He'd already wasted enough hours. The sun was setting. And as soon as it was gone and the moon rose...

He took another breath, staring at the blood spilled and then the woodpile. _Now or never..._

If he waited long enough, that kid would meet the same fate. He could smell his blood, there was... something about it... even as he could hear him washing it away, scent the fear still on him. He picked up some wood for the fireplace, held on one side under his arm as he walked to the door. His eyes narrowed when he found it locked. He let out a soft sigh, listening to small footsteps in the house. Padded. He must have found some slippers or socks.

He forced it open.

He'd worry about replacing it later, he always had to anyway. Though he figured, the look of surprise on the kid should have been expected. He stood there shocked, staring at Steve. He'd found some clothes, dried himself off. Towel over his shoulders for his wet hair, a simpler white tunic, one of the older fashioned ones long enough to cover him without pants, like a short nightgown, and socks. He certainly took liberties as a _guest._..

Steve raised a brow. The kid seemed nervous but Steve figured his own state wasn't exactly... easy to understand. There were tears in and blood on his clothes, what had otherwise been clean and well managed. The shirt he had was missing a few buttons from being torn open, and left in that state. And of course, there was still the bullet in his side. _And his shoes were..._

“Y-your lip...”

_'He's not hungry anymore...'_

Steve rubbed his free thumb along his lower lip quickly. Blood. It wasn't his own but he figured he should have smelled that, licking it to wipe it clean before taking the wood to start up the fireplace in his own bedroom. The boy didn't stray far though he seemed like he wanted to, Steve didn't blame him as he poked the flames.

“Guessing you learned your way around this place, considering... get to know it well enough?”

“... There's no one else here... I didn't want to dirty anything...”

_'That's not right.'_

Bucky shut his eyes a moment, willing the voice to go away.

“I live alone...what's your name?”

_'It's not safe for others...'_

He stayed quiet for a moment, if he was scared, his scent didn't show it.

“... James...”

“Grant.”

Steve got up, glancing over at James. He was staring at the wound now.

“You're...”

Steve didn't say anything, ushering him to the bed, setting the towel aside to have him sitting against the headboard in the very center. And it was clear James was frightened by his reaction. Steve paused, looking him over and raising a brow.

“Do you plan on going back on what you said?”

“N-no! No... I just... I didn't think... weren't you planning on... on... eating maybe?”

“I'm full... you?”

“I-I'm not hungry...”

Bucky almost cursed himself. It was the wrong thing to say if he'd wanted to bide his time, but it was the first thing that slipped... and the truth. Grant gave a soft hum in response, pulling away from the bed and removing his shirt. Bucky bit his lip trying to think.

“... But... isn't it early... I thought you might wait... until... until the moon rose...”

“It's a full moon...”

“Y-yes...”

“I've never known her to give mercy... call it superstition... or loneliness.”

_'He has a secret.'_

_'But you should trust him.'_

Bucky could feel his heart beating faster as he watched the man undress. _He thought he'd have more time..._ It was only the one wound. Watching him take the bullet out, clean and dress it. Every other part of him was unmarked... Strong... clear cut muscle practically sculpted on him. And he could see it now, his shoes were nearly _destroyed. _He wasn't sure what had held them together... And without so much as a bruise in sight... it was... _unnerving..._

“What... what did you do to them?”

“I scared them off. They won't come back.”

_'They can never come back.'_

“H—... how do you know that?”

“They won't... at least... not that group.”

He cleaned himself briefly with a washcloth. And it was clear he wasn't... _shy_... either. Bucky couldn't help holding his breath when Grant had taken off his pants. Near panicking when he sat down close to him, moving himself to loom over Bucky.

_'Calm. He won't hurt you.'_

_'Only if you let him do this.'_

He couldn't help it under that gaze, no matter what the whispers told him, _because_ of what they were telling him. He let his legs be spread despite himself. This wasn't what he had wanted... _but..._

Steve lifted the tunic slightly. James wasn't wearing underwear, he hadn't had much to begin with so it wasn't surprising... but he could see him in full. A young man like any others, his cock laying soft over a decent pair of balls. Not very big by _comparison._.. but maybe that wasn't really fair... _Except..._

Steve's brows furrowed. He was hairless, Steve very much _wasn't_... even less so than before... and...

“How old are you?”

_'He's going to find it...'_

“... 19... I...”

Bucky cut himself off when Grant spread his legs further and ran his fingers over the seam on his perineum. It was puffier and softer than normal. Hiding something that most males wouldn't have. But Bucky wasn't like _most _males... not human ones anyway... He almost panicked when he felt it spread.

_'Don't fight him!'_

_'He needs to mark you.'_

_'He can't protect you without his mark!'_

Steve glanced at the folds hidden in the spread seam... using his thumbs to spread it further. Now he knew why this had been offered. _A true hermaphrodite..._a small clit angled on the secret cunt and slick already wetting the folds. Maybe an involuntary response... He wasn't human and maybe that's why his scent was off, but... Steve checked him with two fingers, dipping all the way in. Hearing the muffled sound, James trying to keep in his voice. Pulling them back out and staring at the string of slick that had come with them, connected to the tips of his fingers.

He used it to start stroking his own penis to full hardness. The scent already affecting him. The dusk... He used his other hand to play with James' cock, the soft skin twitching, tensing, sensitive to the sensations. His thumb dipping to massage the hidden clit while his fingers massaged James' sac and brought him to hardness as well. Once he was, moving his hand to stroke James with his own slick, slow to start, giving a squeeze as he paused... then rapidly. Admittedly... a much _faster_ reaction than he was expecting as he ended up dirtying the tunic fairly quickly. A more watery, slightly foggy cum.

“Have you ever done this before?”

James shook his head. He was trembling. Barely able to relax. Steve sighed. Leaning forward and pulling his hands away from his mouth to kiss him, just to see if it would calm him down. The hand that had been on Steve's own dick moving his fingers back into James' pussy, thumb massaging his clit for the same effect while his fingers thrusted evenly. Not 2 minutes later, the same reaction, a fluttering sensation around his fingers. He was _very_ sensitive...

Maybe it had something to do with what he was... or simply him being overwhelmed in his inexperience, but it managed to get him to relax a bit and Steve figured that was enough with the time he had left.

He pulled James down a bit, thighs over his own, moving his dick along those slick folds to pick up some of the fluid. Nudging at the small hole to get him somewhat used to the feeling, spreading the seam and folds with his cock head. James was looking down, holding his breath again and grasping the pillow behind him tightly. The flush on his cheeks should have been criminal, but maybe what Steve was doing to him was worse. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't doing this for selfish reasons. And he knew that damn well. He wasn't the man the world had thought he was...

Not anymore...

He started pushing, putting pressure on the same spot and watching James wince. He got the tip in and heard him stifle a whimper, tensing up. Quickly leaning in to have him relax with another kiss, slipping his tongue in James' mouth at the first opportunity. Pushing forward slowly as he did, feeling the slight resistance and pulling back out. He kept managing, slowly, to adjust James given the disparity between them. He knew this was likely to hurt him but he didn't have the luxury of time to avoid it. Nor the self restraint to hold himself back from the slick squeeze around his cock. And when he felt the sharper resistance and snap like tear of flesh around him, slipping in suddenly much easier, feeling the whimper in the kiss, he knew he had. Immediately scenting the blood and barely able to stop himself.

He didn't wait nearly long enough for him before pulling those legs over his shoulders, a growl escaping him as he started pushing deep and pulling back to the tip in firm, even thrusts. Maybe too much for the kid given the fidgeting. This probably wasn't how he pictured his day going. Or losing his virginity. But it was better he face this bit of pain than—...

He slowed his pace to let him catch his breath. The dim light of the sunset barely peeking in through stained glass windows and sheer curtains, the light of the fire flicking along with it. He watched him. James' face changing, the furrowed worry in his brow and his chest heaving from catching his breath after trying to hold it in. The gasps interrupting him at each thrust. He pushed forward, firmer thrusts, deeper, his own breaths getting heavier before he swallowed up James' next gasp, mouths sealed together. Pulling back just enough to take the tunic off of James. A hand running through still wet hair. Still thrusting as he pulled the socks off similarly. James' toes curling as Steve fucked him through the same fluttering sensations.

He wondered if James had even fully understood the implications, what would happen when he... if he was taking advantage of the younger male.

_He could feel his own blood heating, like an itch in his veins, under his skin. Each fine hair standing on edge. Every muscle tensing up._

He pushed forward again, another growl, spreading James' legs on either side of him, fucking him much harder and faster. Losing track of time in his own selfish chase, hoping to beat the rising moon. Ignoring what he gave James and how it was affecting him. The younger man's cock easily falling over that edge a second time once it managed to get hard again. The squeeze and continuous clench on Steve's cock repeating in smaller intervals against James' control.

The moment he found that edge, pushing to get himself over it, one pulse and he pulled out. Using his hand for those last few thrusts, ensuring he marked James' skin in full. Heated ribbons of thick, bright white cum painting James' flat stomach. The kid seemed shocked. Shuddering at the leftover feeling. But Steve knew this game by now, the one his own body played. At least in this instance, it would work in his favor... He was far from done, and by the look on James' face, the slight fear... he knew it too. It was barely a moment, before Steve pushed back in.

And he wasn't any nicer. James seemed worried, scared even, but his body was pliant and soft for the taking. Steve slowed it down at the whimper, lifting just one of James' legs to get deeper and place him on his side. Teasing James' cock to full hardness again, a tight squeeze from tender touch keeping him just on the edge to see how long he might be able to hold it in. Not very long before he was squirming to escape it. Cute in a way.

Steve couldn't help leaning in for another kiss. James seemed to want to hide and Steve let him, letting him pull his leg down and forward, but lifting his hips to get deeper. Pushing harder for a long while before he felt the next build up. The swell in his cock just barely starting but still pulling out to mark his back in the same way. And still not done. Helping James onto his hands and knees as he could, sweat dripping, blood boiling, the light of the sun already nearly gone.

He couldn't help the growl or the feeling, but the urge to _mate_ was strong enough. Pushing back in once again, feeling the swell at his base start to grow. His _mark_ on the beautifully toned and lithe body in front of him. _His mind already starting to leave him._

Bucky could barely breathe, Grant hadn't stopped. He was starting to wonder if he would. He knew what he'd offered, how he'd put himself in this situation,_ offered something he shouldn't have_, but he hadn't expected—. He gave a gasp, hearing another growl. There was _something_ that kept pushing inside of him. Something different. Odd. A node at the base of Grant's penis. Building, growing, making it harder for the man to pull out with each thrust, but it barely hindered him. It still hurt, but he couldn't fight the sensations over his body. Overwhelming, _incendiary_, strange, unlike anything he'd felt before.

He felt ashamed. He hadn't known _pleasure_ would be among the feelings of offering his body to a stranger. He'd always been told this was precious, sacred. The spot reserved for the person he loved, that he would love when the time came...

_But he knew that time was long passed._

And it wasn't worth protecting if he would die anyway. Not to him. He shuddered as another wave crashed over him. His pussy twitching, spasming, trying to pull the other male in. The tears rolled down his face, small hiccups escaped him. Still trying to hide his shame, barely keeping awake at this point. The sprites had gone quiet and it was his one solace in this mess, but he was still wondering if all of this would be worth it.

He tried to lift himself, to look back. He heard another growl. Something... _felt different..._ The node was growing, heightening the pain as it forced itself in and out, as he felt the other male get closer, press him down. Still trying to gasp for breath without a single break. Even as he felt the moon rising, he couldn't fight this.

The last he saw was a hand _changing_. Sharp _claws_ growing in as they ripped the blanket beside him. The swelling too much to take any more and too much to pull back out, shoved into the deepest point, his body clenching tight to keep it in.

He didn't feel the flood of heat in his lower belly.

He blacked out before he could.

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm... I wonder what happened~...
> 
> ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> Satan, this is such a cocktease. I am just terrible~.
> 
> Anyone have a guess on what Bucky boo might be? I'll give a hint, this is based off of one of the prompts in my prompt fic monster thing if you haven't seen that. And Bucky is certainly relative to whoever managed to do a certain something to Steeb~.
> 
> Happy Hallow's~<3.


	2. Rose Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after, Bucky is free.
> 
> The day after, Steve is worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *farnsworth voice*
> 
> Good news~ everyone!
> 
> I've decided to continue this shit...
> 
> fuck me, so hard, like with something made of sandpaper, i am shit
> 
> but on a more bitter and sour note, i'm pissed
> 
> i'm royally pissed
> 
> *someone* decided to be a killjoy and report my free ideas, probably a spiteful bitch on the opposite side of the trashpile, mumma bucky is a necessity, and despite the fact that the format is still akin to storytelling, well within qualifying as a meta story of author drunk storytelling (lol, can you tell i'm a crackhead? all of you guys know this, i thought it was pretty obvious and hilarious), it's apparently 'not good enough' in the eyes of these site overlords
> 
> but don't worry, where there's a will, there's a way, i won't let this stump my creativity or my spreading of the dark lord's sacred word, MUMMA BUCKY IS OUR TRUE OVERLORD AND HE SHALL BE HEARD
> 
> I will not be silenced~
> 
> Even if I have to make a convoluted detailed fic of a character like our sweet Wade W. Wilson, blogging about his love of Mumma Bucky~<3<3<3, because I asked, and yes, that does qualify as something I'm allowed to do fuckers~<3
> 
> ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> but on the other end of back to this fic, the chapters are a bit longer so posts likely won't be as frequent, i'm still low on inspiration but i do wanna finish this one out before the year ends and at least ramp back up my inspiration for 'you're my fate', and continue on that one, but in the meantime...
> 
> i hope this one doesn't disappoint my lovelies~<3

.oOo.

_The light of the moon created a glow on his body, his wings growing back after they'd been brutally ripped away. _

_The Wolf had knotted him, marked him. Bucky under him as limp prey, but the scent was enough to keep him safe..._

_He faded... In and out..._

_In the night he saw a shadow under the locked door. Heard claws tapping on the floors in the hall. Screaming. Men running. Familiar voices causing rising dread in Bucky. Trespassers. _

_The fire had gone out but the light of the moon spilled through the windows. Shadows on the stained glass. One overtaking the other as a deep red fluid spilled down them._

_Quiet._

_Bucky slept..._

_._oOo.

Bucky woke up sore. Sticky and tacky from the night prior. An... _odd_ feeling in his lower belly. And then he realized, a wet feeling still between his legs. He remembered... Grant pulling out twice, choosing to cum _on _him like some sort of animal marking its territory... he hadn't remembered...

It wasn't something that mattered anyway...

Clothes had been left on the bedside end table beside him. He turned to look at the windows... his heartbeat getting a bit stronger, faster.

There was no bright red spilled on the opposite side of them.

But there was a dark residue of stain blocking small pieces of light. He gave a shaky breath. If anything, he should clean himself. So he did. Taking a warm bath to soothe the soreness. His cuts from running were healed, the soreness in his legs. But new bruises and soreness had taken place on his hips, in a few more spots on his body.

There were 4 distinct cuts on one hip.

Bucky remembered Grant's hand placed there, but he didn't remember nails digging into his skin. His magic had come back, but... there was only one way to truly check.

He finished his bath, looking over his skin, feeling what the moon had given him back. And then his wings... He had to check them and he could feel his heart sinking when he did... They were still... far from healed. The frame of them had come back, and he'd known they felt different from before... they always seemed to, the mirror finish was... _darker _towards the edges... but there was no glow of magic, and there were gaping holes where the thinly veiled chitin should have been. He felt the tears welling... _He couldn't..._

He tried to swallow down the feeling. Glancing forward. _The window was clean—._

_'He's coming.'_

Bucky could barely grab anything to cover himself or make his wings disappear by the time the door opened. A flush quickly coloring his cheeks. Grant paused, glancing over him. Something near... hollow in his eyes, the light of them dim. For what reason, Bucky couldn't tell.

“There's breakfast in the dining room... for when you're ready. Did you...?”

Bucky gave a hesitant nod. He'd explored enough when he'd had time alone in this... _castle_. Grant gave a short nod in return before leaving. It took a moment, but Bucky figured he was expected to eat at this point. He was a guest in someone else's home, though he wasn't quite sure what constituted this dark and lonely place as _anyone's_ home...He took another breath, his hand running over the... tear in the blanket... swallowing the feeling as he put on the clothes. He supposed he should be grateful...

Whatever this was... it was still _far_ better than where he'd been...

.oOo.

Breakfast was quiet.

Enough so to hear the clack of fine silverware against porcelain. Even sitting all the way across from him at that table. He'd set up a portion of foods at the center and told Bucky to pick what he liked and sit down. Breads, cheeses, fruits... diced ham in a large portion of scrambled eggs. Simple oatmeal. Sugar on the side to add. Coffee or tea, cream. Milk. Fresh orange juice.

Rather a lot to prepare considering he was alone...

And another thing... it all seemed strangely... _fresh_. Like he wasn't too used to having food or maybe guests? Like he'd gone into the town specifically to get it...

Not that Bucky wouldn't be thankful if he had, just... He took a breath, eating more. Quietly staring down at the spoon for a moment. It wasn't... _typical_. In fact, for an estate so grand, it wasn't _silver_ at all.

“It's glass.”

Bucky looked up. Despite the distance, it was quiet enough to hear Grant clearly.

“The utensils, they're glass. It seemed the least pretentious of what this place offered, part of the inheritance.... They... didn't have regular silverware.”

“Oh...”

That made sense...

Grant had finished first and waited patiently for Bucky to do the same, and when Bucky had finished, asked him if he was going to eat anymore. Bucky shook his head, Grant calmly took his plate to clean up. Coming back to put the food away, though there wasn't much left. There had only been a bit of oatmeal to begin with and certainly not any eggs left which had surprised Bucky. Though he figured with the amount of muscle on the man, doing everything alone... he must be getting all that protein from somewhere.

Once clean up was done, he came back with something for Bucky.

A backpack...

Bucky furrowed his brows, a different sort of worry and fear creeping up on him. Confirmed by Grant's next words.

“I've put together some supplies for you. Clothes, basic necessities and survival essentials, a canteen, some dry food. It should help you—.”

“You mean to send me back out there? W-what about those men? What about—.”

“They're all gone.”

_'They're all gone...'_

Bucky's eyes widened. The sprites having said it at the same time likely meant _something_ had happened... Bucky took a breath, trying to blink away the tears welling. It should have been a good thing... but he couldn't stop feeling hurt.

“So what... you just fuck me and kick me out?”

Steve didn't react for a moment. His face was calm, the sigh through his nose just as much. He pulled out the chair beside James, sitting down and setting the bag down.

“You said you only needed one night. I figured you wouldn't want to stay after I fucked you.”

“I—... I have nowhere else to go...”

“It'll be safer for you if you don't stay here...”

“P-please. I... I can make myself useful, I can help you... Or I can—...”

Bucky hesitated, fidgeting a moment. _Did he really want to be a stranger's whore?_

“I can... offer myself. In the same way...”

“You're scared...”

Bucky's eyes widened once more, tears welling as he forced himself to speak.

“There are more of them than just those that were in the woods. If I go into town, if I—...”

_'They'll find you.'_

He didn't need the reminder.

“I know I said I just needed the one night... and you've done far more than I should ask... but—.”

“What did they do to you...?”

The tears fell before he could stop them. He bit his lip as if to stop himself from answering, to stop from whimpering, but he—.

_'Tell him...'_

He swallowed the feeling.

“... They cut me open... I was awake... They took pieces of me and they...”

_'Better to be a whore than an experiment...'_

“Stop...”

Steve took a breath, watching James silently cry in front of him just at the _idea_ of having to go back out there. He'd marked him so he could live another day and it had worked. Keeping him would be ill advised. But throwing him out would mean he'd delayed that fate and taken advantage of him just for him to have to deal with what might kill him anyway. And if he stayed too long...

He sighed. Standing before walking over and picking up James, carrying him to an empty guest room and setting him down on the bed.  
  


“This place isn't easy to take care of... Take some time to find your bearings. I'll come back with something for you to do, okay?”

Bucky gave a hesitant nod and shaky breath before watching Grant leave. Curling in on himself once he was gone. _Even if just one more day... __**anything**__ was better than where he'd been..._

.oOo.

_The forest is always beautiful. But it's also big. And scary..._

_The Elders say that the moon will always guide them, but Bucky's not sure how long he's been lost here._

_He got separated from her hours ago, and he hasn't been able to find his way home. Worse, he can hear the cracks of twigs, the rustles in the bushes. He _**knows** _something is following him. But he has no idea what __**it**__ is._

_The noises are enough to have him running again, but it follows him just as quickly. He loses track of how long but he eventually stops hearing the sound. He's in a clearing of the forest. The full moon shining down on him._

_But he's still lost._

_Trying to blink away the tears before—._

**Something pounces on him. Growls escaping it and—.**

_He throws it back with magic. His wings making themselves known. It won't be much but if it can make him look _slightly_ bigger, let whatever it is know what it's dealing with, it will—..._

_He's staring back at it. Him. Wide blue eyes fading from gold on a blond haired boy. He's thin, and small. He looks younger maybe. Staring at him in awe._

“_Whoa... you're a Faerie!”_

_Bucky can't help but blush staring back at the other boy. He wants to hide his wings but he knows it would be pointless now. Instead, he gets angry._

“_W-who are you? Why were you chasing me?”_

_He shrugs. Because of course he does. Bucky frowns._

“_I'm Steve. You smell nice! Your wings are pretty. Hey, what's your name?”_

_He gets closer and his eyes light up and shine like a puppy that's just made a new best friend and—_oh..._ he practically is a puppy... Bucky calms down a bit when he notices the tail wagging. A Wolf pup then... but..._

“_... Bucky... b-but you shouldn't pounce people like that, it scares them!”_

“_Were you scared?”_

“_N-no!”_

_It's asked innocently but Steve's smile to Bucky's reaction says a whole lot more._

“_Watcha doin' out here, Bucky?”_

“_I—what about you? Shouldn't you be with your pack?”_

_That makes him stop. The smile suddenly fades as his expression falls._

“_... Got lost. But then I smelled you! Faeries know the forest better than _anyone_, right?”_

_They were supposed to... Bucky can't help how the tears start welling. He doesn't have sprites to help him. Not yet. He isn't sure he'll ever get them. But if he tells them she _left_ him—._

“_Why are you crying, Bucky?”_

“Why are you crying, Bucky...?”

.oOo.

Bucky woke with a start. And alone... again.

It took a moment for his heart rate to settle. For the tears to stop falling. He curled in on himself, waiting for the calm to finally come back... seeing the light through the space just passed his arms. He looked up, taking another breath at the sprite. Waving it away.

Manifestations of Faeries' magic... Of their spirits. Meant to guide. Aid. Provide clairvoyance of a sort. Voices meant to listen to nature and reflect pathways. To light them for the Faerie they belong to.

It was considered a blessing to have more than one. A sign of powerful magic.

Bucky had 3. At least. And he'd never been very fond of them.

_'You can stay...'_

_'He'll keep you safe.'_

_'He's tending his roses.'_

Bucky sighed, getting up to look out the window. Sure enough, he saw Grant. Tending to the rose garden... He hadn't taken the time to admire it before, but the roses were well cared for. The garden was beautiful... but there was almost something... melancholy about it.

He turned around to see more that Grant had left for him. Clothes. A good amount for someone who was staying. All well sized so they should fit him. Bucky figured he shouldn't have really been surprised with how... _intimately_ familiar he'd let a stranger know his body. And he couldn't help his cheeks heating. But he was a bit surprised he'd paid enough attention. Wondering how he hadn't noticed the first time either.

He'd even left a few well off pairs of shoes... he'd left slips before. Now a few more. Boots as well. Fairly new, clean. Comfortable.

He took another breath, watching him in his garden. If anything. He should thank him. Ask him what he _could_ do. He slipped on a pair of boots that could handle the snow. Put on a set of clothes and cloak, tied and warm. And went outside.

Grant noticed him immediately, but he didn't react. He was placing a powder of some kind, maybe a fertilizer, in the soil. It took Bucky a moment to speak.

“You left me sleeping...”

That made him pause.

“I could've helpe—.”

“No.”

He looked at Bucky. Almost wincing from the surprise on his face, but then clarifying.

“I—... you've already given more than I should have taken. You don't have to do anything else. You can stay.”

_'He feels guilty...'_

A moment of quiet passed before Grant continued what he was doing. Bucky walked over. The flowers were in bloom. Winter roses... in a gorgeous blood red. Deeper towards the outside of each bloom, bright in the center. A light frost dusting them... He leaned down, crouching next to him. Watching as he spread the powder...

“Bone meal... the soil here doesn't have much of what they need... I hunt. Try to use every part I can.”

When Bucky reached for it, Grant flinched, tensing up. Bucky was surprised but tried to push a bit more, if still softer than he was used to affirming.

“I can help.”

“You don't have to, you're my guest...”

“I'm very good with plants... and I _want_ to help.”

He glanced at Bucky for a moment but measured out a small bowl for one of the bushes.

“I... I'm sorry, I'm not the best with... company.”

Bucky gave a short nod and took the bowl, helping him finish up with managing the flowers. Using a bit of his magic to coax more blooms, whisper and listen to the flowers when he wasn't looking. And they were very well cared for, that was true... they wanted for nothing... but held so much _pain._ As if they were weeping for someone... Bucky looked back over at him as he gathered his materials to put them away.

“They're beautiful...”

He seemed surprised a moment but responded.

“... Thank you... they're all I have...”

Bucky furrowed his brows a moment, glancing at the practical _castle_ before Grant clarified.

“They're the only companions I have... alive out here...”

_'He's lonely...'_

_Oh..._

Bucky took a breath at the words. He wasn't sure what compelled him to say the next words. Barely a whisper but the other man heard them clear enough.

“Maybe not?”

That made him smile if barely, but it quickly faded. He didn't respond.

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it begins~
> 
> mmm, steve's not so dark in this one though it will be touching on some pretty dark themes, still debating on tagging it and i think i will, but he's really just a big softie puppy who's been lonely for a long time, poor baby
> 
> bucky's certainly a bit... odd, isn't he? he has his reasons~
> 
> and as far as being a fairy/faerie...
> 
> honestly
> 
> I needed moar mumma bucky so yes, mpreg is imminent, but also, beauty and the beast, and lastly~
> 
> i thought, what's the absolute gayest possible thing i can make our sweet bucky boo for this one~?
> 
> because just... all the gay bitch, i fucking love it
> 
> is that offensive, am i allowed? am i problematic yet? lol, just kidding, but i give no shits, he's a fucking fae and he's fucking fabulous bitches, and i'm having a lot of fun playing with the lore of this fic, faeries are quite interesting, and it worked perfectly for the connection both boys have with the moon and the set up for the beauty and the beast fairytale~ and he is a still a pretty fucking badass fairy and bitch he will fuck you up~<3<3<3
> 
> besides all that, i realized i didn't have any fics out where steeb and bucky knew each other or where friends in childhood... and then i was upset, it's time i amend that~ don't you think?
> 
> ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))


	3. Sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is gifted a place of solace, too familiar...
> 
> Steve is reminded of the place of solace he lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gais, i'm tired.
> 
> like, for real, someone give me some inspiration or some shit. like it's semi working for this fic, really, i'm kind of in a weird spot for it right now thinking about certain elements i want to add and whatnot, like maybe a variant of a/b/o sort of (it's kinda there, just not labeled yet), fuck it, i'm adding the tag at least as a reminder and also because i'm a salty as fuck bitch, the details will swim up the stream later, i has plan~<3
> 
> but anywho~, so far, there's also lots of porn or allusions to the nasty~, cause i don't know, but it's been seriously persistent with this one and i can't place why... but i could use some inspiration for my other work, namely... 'you're my fate...'
> 
> cause ya know~
> 
> i'm still a bitch
> 
> and i need to work on it, feed me attention<3
> 
> also, is this weird, i feel like this is weird, i haven't really picked a consistent number of days to post this one, i just felt like today was a good day to post, and
> 
> ...
> 
> . . .
> 
> ~<3<3<3

.oOo.

The next few days were quiet.

Grant wasn't very talkative. Maybe not so surprising for someone who'd had limited contact with anyone for a very long time. But Bucky had caught him staring a few times.

He wasn't quite sure why.

True to his word, he didn't make Bucky do much. Treating him more like an honored guest than an unwarranted stranger, making sure he was fed, safe. Bucky might have been able to relax if it weren't for... what he'd run from. The sprites had reassured him but the lack of task also left him without much to do at all.

Grant let him help in the garden, and the times spent in quiet comfort doing so had been... enjoyable. But apart from that, there was almost nothing. Grant was always working on something, but he wasn't fond of Bucky wandering off either. Always going to find him when he noticed.

Bucky had asked if Grant had kept him for sex.

But his response was only a pained and guilty expression. Before telling Bucky that he'd only touch him if he truly wanted it, and he wasn't going to kick him out if he preferred not to. It was... considerate.

But also _different_ from his first response. Which had almost been like sating a deep hunger. _Desperately_. For Bucky, it didn't matter as much as he thought it would. It didn't matter at all anymore, though he couldn't remember why... and he couldn't remember why it _should_.

Grant was peculiar, if nothing else. Sometimes he'd disappear. But when Bucky would go to find him or explore the mansion to stave his boredom, he'd reappear, almost upset. And there were certain areas he'd always steer Bucky away from.

He was also kind... but distant.

The sprites had told Bucky to trust him... but the fact that he hid so much made it rather difficult. It almost made Bucky want to misbehave just to get his attention. Though he supposed that could be blamed more on what he was... and the curious part of his nature.

Weeks passed. He ended up wandering off to explore often. Almost evading Grant this time.

And it was then, he came across it.

A door.

Completely made of _iron._

Of all the things to have in such a grand estate, it seemed almost random. Out of place with decorum and luxury. Eerie.

But Bucky wasn't finding that he got the same chills he used to coming near the metal. He lost track of how long he stayed staring at it. And it only raised more questions.

Grant found him after some time.

“James. Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you, I—...”

Steve paused... noting the oddness of James staring at the door. He hadn't even reacted when Steve walked up to him.

“James...?”

“Why do you have this?”

Steve was almost caught off guard by the question, and a bit surprised.

“Have what? It's a room I keep locked.”

“The door... it's made of iron. It doesn't fit with the rest of the house.”

That surprised Steve a bit more. James didn't seem affected in the same ways one of _them_ might be, but he didn't seem unaffected either. And not just in a curious way. Steve took a breath.

“Very astute. I put that in to keep one of my nosier visitors out. She hates it enough to not bother.”

“I thought you said you weren't used to company.”

“She doesn't come around often.”

“What's in there?”

Steve raised a brow at the question. James seemed a little... distressed, almost hostile but not quite.

“Something I like to keep private... sometimes people do that.”

The soft 'oh' that slipped from James said something else. But he had the decency to blush. Steve waited another moment, James' attention on him, before walking back to the latest task taking up his time.

Bucky followed.

He sat down, watching Grant for a while as he continued to work. Fixing something maybe. Polishing something? Bucky hadn't cared much for it. And it didn't take long for him to feel tired in all that boredom. He had been feeling tired lately...

.oOo.

“_Steve..._”

Steve looked up from what he was doing. His heart immediately racing. He certainly hadn't expected to hear his name from the lips of his guest. Not when he'd refrained giving him that particular one. But it didn't take him long to realize that James was sleeping...

And he calmed down with the realization. Maybe someone he'd known... Someone else with the same name. Steve was about to continue when he noticed him fidgeting. His breaths a bit harsher. Steve set down his tool and picked him up. James clung. He figured the kid would fall asleep eventually with how bored Steve normally left him.

Some host he'd been...

James had been patient, if a bit curious. And some part of Steve wanted to trust him, he just... He moved some of his hair out of his face.

_Beautiful..._

And it seemed like the longer he stayed, the more Steve noticed. But the longer James stayed... the more danger he'd be in. Weeks had gone by in quiet company. James made no indication that he planned to leave and the moon was already rounding its cycle, reaching its apex. Just a few more days... He spent so much time quietly paranoid and something had made him trust Steve, but he wasn't so sure he deserved it.

He sighed, carrying James back to the guest room and setting him down to rest. He knew there had to be something in this old place that he could give to James. Some old room he didn't use and wouldn't mind—.

“_Stevie..._”

Steve's eyes widened and his breath hitched. He waited, as if to hear it again, only able to stare.

He took another breath. He needed to... _he needed to..._

He left.

And it wasn't until he was standing in front of the iron door that he realized where he'd gone. Sighing, he unlocked it, stepping in and closing it. Locking it behind himself. Two sets of stairs staring right back at him. One leading down. The other up. Rooms blocked off from any other place in the castle. He followed them upward. As high as they went.

He hadn't been here in a long time... but there was a reason for that.

A red door. More iron lacing it. He unlocked it, closing it behind himself, taking in the room he'd left behind. The attic.

After so long, those dreams had stopped. And the boy he'd hoped to remember, the face he'd hoped to see... it had faded from his memories. She said that maybe it would be better for him this way, a fresh start, moving on. She just didn't seem to understand.

There was a large round window. Stained glass in a picture of one of the Fae, adding a beautiful bit of color to the room. 12 sprites, near glowing in pure white light, brightening the room.

Paintings. Left unfinished and covered lined the walls of the room. He uncovered the one left on the easel.

The painting was of a boy, a Faerie, standing with his wings spread. He had short brown hair in neat soft curls and pale skin. Glowing under the moon in the garden of roses. Nothing but a shawl of Faerie's silk barely covering him, he was mostly turned away from the viewer, just barely looking over his shoulder. It was the closest Steve had ever gotten to finishing a painting of him.

But the face was still blank.

Moonlit wings stared back at him on the boy with no face. The frame of them, silver, a near mirror finish he'd been quite proud of. Two on each side, sharp and elegant. Something between a butterfly's and a dragonfly's. Transparent and iridescent chitin inbetween each space. A bluish tint like stained glass in the chitin towards where his wings met his skin. A subtle glow in the magic of them near matching the moon.

They were beautiful... _perfect_. And yet they somehow felt _wrong._

In a different way than he remembered...

“_They'll never grow back, Stevie...”_

He couldn't help flinching at the faint memory of that voice crossing him. He wasn't sure what compelled him to set up his paints and brushes. He wasn't sure how he'd finish, _but..._

.oOo.

“_Bucky...”_

“..._Ja..._”

“_...ames...?_”

“James—hey, hey... it's okay...”

Bucky woke with a bit of a start, Grant not quite looming over him but by his side. _And those same blue eyes looking at him... but with far more sorrow. _He let his breathing calm.

“I... what happened?”

“You fell asleep. I brought you here, you were fidgeting, it looked like you were having a nightmare...”

“I wasn't... not _quite_ but... thank you.”

_'What a dream~.'_

_Le Fae_, what a dream indeed... It felt like too much, and he knew his heart was still beating too quickly and his face just had to be flush. Grant handed him a glass of water to drink and Bucky took it, then he noticed.

“There's paint in your beard.”

“I—um... I was... painting.”

The blush he gave was sort of cute. And maybe a bit too familiar. Bucky felt his heart clench, but he hid his smile with the glass. He heard Grant sigh.

“I... haven't been as gracious to you as I should be.”

“You don't have to be... I'm a stranger who nearly forced my refuge on you, on your home—.”

“No, Jamie—James... you're... You were running from people that would've hurt you. I made the choice to let you stay and said I'd treat you as a guest. You've been here for weeks, I wouldn't call you a stranger anymore. And I...”

He paused, looking at Bucky. And Bucky could guess what he was about to say by the way his gaze traveled, even if he didn't want it to show. And if he was honest... Bucky could say he'd merely trusted the sprites with his decision, but he knew there was much more to it than that. Even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

“I made the choice to stay here...”

Grant seemed surprised a moment, but quickly responded.

“Of course... but you fell asleep. I doubt you stayed to be bored out of your mind and I've been a bit unfair with how I'm watching you. You're not my prisoner.”

“You haven't treated me like one. You're just always... working.”

“I'm always working...”

There was always something to work on...

“It still doesn't mean you have to sit through it. You only wander off because I give you nothing to do, right? I'm sorry if I seem guarded, just seems like I should keep you safe.”

“You're territorial.”

Grant gave another pause in surprise but he didn't deny it. He gave a huff.

“Can't seem to tell the difference anymore... come with me?”

Bucky set the empty glass down and got up to follow him. Grant led him through the halls and to another room he had locked. But this one held beautifully adorned double doors. Grant unlocked them, holding one open for Bucky, who hesitated for only a moment. The sprites were buzzing with excitement but it was somehow odd. Familiar even.

His breath hitched as he entered. Distinct and intricately designed walls surrounded him with polished floors and incredible architecture as well as bookshelves embedded in those walls for miles. On two floors even, stairs leading up to them on both sides in gorgeous spirals.

A library.

“There's a lot to read here. It's a quiet and... nice place to be. Just to be in peace if you'd prefer something else maybe.”

“Grant... it's _beautiful_... I actually... I used to love reading so much, I just, I've been so worried I... it's been a while, but that love never left. But why keep this room locked? It seems like such a good place to relax—... to wind down... for you...”

“Because it used to belong to someone else... someone I—... I can't remember... I still clean it on occasion but the house doesn't get as dusty as others might. Eventually, it just became a reminder that I was forgetting something... some_one_. And as you know, I'm always working. I thought you might enjoy your time here where I couldn't...”

He made to leave and Bucky wasn't sure what made him stop the man. But he could feel the magic singing in his blood.

_Sanctuary._

And he wasn't sure how, but he felt at peace here. Like this place had been made for _him._

“Stay.”

Grant seemed surprised.

“I still have work to do, I—.”

“Please...?”

Steve couldn't help taking a breath, those wide eyes staring back at him. James had grabbed his hand and Steve could feel himself leaning closer. So much time spent in solitude and one boy had his control slipping. James didn't seem to mind when he got closer, his eyes darting from Steve's lips to his eyes again, a slight flush coming over his cheeks.

If he was going to stay, maybe it would be safer for Steve... to be able to mark him again.

He didn't want to hurt James.

But part of him didn't want him to leave either... _and the closer he got, the deeper that feeling would get..._

He nearly pulled away before James pulled him back, a hand on his cheek as he pushed himself up on his toes and closed the distance. The kiss was chaste. Sweet. Held for barely a moment.

And Steve wanted _far_ too much more.

“I should go...”

He said the words, but he knew he didn't mean them. And at James' face falling, he didn't stop himself from leaning in again. Or the kiss from getting deeper, taking the first chance to slip his tongue in at the slight gasp James gave. Pushing for _more_, for dominance. His hands pulling James further in, his grip tightening. Chasing the small moans he gave.

Until a fang grazed James' lip and he tasted blood.

He pulled away, abruptly. Forcing himself to calm down. But it didn't leave him _hungry,_ it—.

_He needed to leave._

“_Please..._”

And just like that, the dam broke. He was already wearing thin on control and the full moon drawing closer wasn't helping. _James'_ _scent_.

He didn't have enough self control to pull away when he heard the plea. Nor to at least take him to a proper place or bed, or even take their clothes off. He crowded him right under one of the staircases. Turned him around and pinned him there not even hesitating to find his prize and slip right into it. Holding his hips tightly as he fucked into the secret slit James had. As he took without care. Without reason. _Dominating._

Hearing him mewl and cry softly and sweetly. Feeling him clench up tightly around his cock. Nipping his neck, barely stopping himself from sinking in a firmer bite.

This time, he didn't bother pulling out at any point. It would just make a mess. And he couldn't help relishing in how well James took all of him in. Tried to pull him in deeper. Tried to _keep_ it. In how amazing it felt to spill himself inside the deepest part of the younger man's body. In how responsive he was.

Steve couldn't stop himself and he dragged James down with him. Quite literally. He took him again, pinned to those polished floors.

He barely managed to stop himself from knotting him. And it took that much more as a reminder just to leave him.

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and excuse me bitch.
> 
> but i think i might be *all* testicles... and no shaft~
> 
> ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))


	4. Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky doesn't deny his desires when they come.
> 
> Steve only wants to protect him from his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sincerely, curse my fucking inability to write a decent stand alone one-shot that doesn't grow fucking miles of plot
> 
> like a damn tumor...
> 
> and
> 
> my love of small details and easter eggs
> 
> this is fuckin' ridiculous
> 
> here
> 
> i still don't know how i'm sequencing
> 
> but i'm salty today, so enjoy this bitch~<3

.oOo.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Quieter than usual.

Bucky wasn't quite sure what to make of it. There was something... _bestial..._ about Grant. _Primal. _But it was also something familiar...

He almost felt ashamed of himself. He'd woken up from that dream, _from seeing those eyes..._ Sweet blue on a handsome face, looking down at him. Gentle caress... sweet touches in a different place. _A different time..._ Waking up had left Bucky _wanting_. Hoping for that smile. He had to admit, it was a bit unfair to push that on Grant. Under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn't be able to. He _shouldn't_.

It felt like betrayal. Like he should be deeply repulsed, but he wasn't.

They weren't the same person. Bucky still wasn't sure _who_ the young man he was dreaming about... even was. But he had an idea of who he must have been... _it shouldn't be possible but—_...

Grant held him differently and—... He felt _guilty_ for how _**badly**_ he'd wanted it. How shaken the man was when he'd forced himself to leave. Not even fully satisfied. Maybe he thought Bucky hadn't noticed but...

“I'm sorry...”

Grant's eyes widened as he looked up.

“It's not—you didn't—... You're not the one who should be sorry. I almost hurt you, James.”

“You didn't...”

_'You wanted him to.'_

“But I could have...”

Bucky didn't say anything. They finished up in similar silence before they went their separate ways. A simple 'goodnight' had become commonplace between them. And somehow it didn't feel right. It had never felt like _enough. _Something had drawn him to this place. To... _Grant_. And he could still feel his body _wanting_. Craving more from the man.

It didn't make any sense, but he...

Bucky took a breath before getting up and walking down the hall to the other man's room. He'd been tossing and turning for what felt like hours. He caught Grant removing his shirt to get ready for bed and he had to stop his breath from hitching. That he stayed up much longer wasn't really surprising. But then, it also seemed like he was trying to ignore or deny certain needs for his own body. Faeries were nocturnal. With the exception of a few very specific types. Grant seemed the same way.

“James, I though—.”

Bucky didn't bother answering. He didn't bring clothing, he'd taken it off before he'd left the room with one goal in mind, and had used a shawl to cover himself. Enough to silence Steve the moment he dropped it.

“_James..._”

“You said you wouldn't touch me unless I wanted it...”

“I—... I know... _I'm so sorry_...”

“I wanted you to touch me.”

He took a step back when Bucky stepped forward, as if trying to find himself while not being able to pull his eyes away.

“I should have... better control than that...”

“... Maybe you don't have to?”

“_You don't know what you're saying..._”

“_Let me find out then?_”

Bucky was close enough now that they were nearly chest to chest.

“The times I touched you... I lost control... if it keeps happening...”

_“Every time I touch you, I lose control... what're you doin' to me, Buck...”_

“I won't mind... I _don't_ mind... I want this...”

_“I don't mind... I want this, Stevie...”_

He stood stone still, looking down at Bucky as if waiting for the next step or trying to stop himself. But he responded just the same when Bucky reached up for the kiss.

It felt like coming _home_. Like something had been missing and they'd found it. Though neither could remember _why._ It was all too easy to get lost in it anyway. Steve quickly picked up James and dropped him on his bed. Looming over his form. His pants went next as he caged the boy under him.

This was a bad idea.

He knew that.

If he let himself get attached, it would hurt that much more if... _when_ James left him. But he couldn't find it in himself to stop. And if he needed to...

_No._

He couldn't take that risk, not with James. _Not with—..._

He leaned down for another kiss, letting his arousal fog his mind, the scent of James edging him on. He was still wet, dripping slick and cum from earlier as he let Steve spread his legs. The seam on his perineum a little swollen and agape from the abuse, just barely revealing the soft pink lips hidden inside. A light blush coloring the area. Likely tender.

Steve almost pulled himself back at the sight. James just grabbed his hand.

“I trust you...”

It just made Steve feel more guilty hearing those words. A better man might deserve those words... _Steve was far from that._

But what little care he had for the fact was fading as he gazed at the young man below him. As he brought his thumb to that same slit, spreading it and dipping in. Watching him gasp. His own dick already well passed hard, impatiently waiting. And Steve wasn't one for patience or control right now. He pulled his thumb away before placing his cock at the entrance and slipping the head in, hearing the gasp of a moan that followed. Staring down as he pushed further, watching himself disappear inside of James, hearing the slow sound, the obscene wetness of him.

He took a moment to admire it. The beautiful blush that came over James, the way he held tight, trying to hold himself together. How he clenched up when Steve had entered him. How gorgeous he looked, spread around Steve. How tight he felt, soft, warm, wet. Pale skin only highlighting each pink place. His cock, sweeter and twitching with excitement it could barely contain. His nipples, pure and rosy, waiting to be played with. They were bigger than Steve's. Bigger than the average male's as far as Steve could tell. And he couldn't help reaching a hand toward one. Hearing the gasp.

More tender, and sensitive too.

He hadn't taken his time that first night...

Hadn't had the time to. In the afternoon, he'd simply wanted. Pushed him down and _took_. And James hadn't seemed to mind if he was here asking for _more_. But Steve wanted more. Wanted _everything_ he had to offer. He'd been denying himself before, and now that James was here, in his arms, clenched tight around him. As if prepared and served. A proper _meal_ on a silver platter. _Steve_ _didn't have the control to deny him. _He took a breath as he pulled back.

Seeing the slick and cum glisten on his cock. Feeling James shudder at the feeling. Feeling him fidget as Steve started to play with one nipple. Just barely grazing, circling his thumb around the pretty pink bud.

“_Grant..._”

He slid back in just as slow. Feeling another clench and taking note of those inner walls surrounding him. How they clung to him, squeezing his cock. How the tip easily found the end of the passage, pushing it, teasing it, every time, being begged to come back. Wanting nothing more than to oblige that.

He took it slowly this time. _Controlled_... By some miracle. Taking his time to relish each slide, every detail. Both hands coming to the boy's hips, lifting them so he could push deeper, so he could _feel_ more and give more. And still not much in light of tolerance when he felt the familiar fluttering. Seeing him try to keep his breath in but the lovely moan still slipping.

He leaned down to take a nipple in mouth and felt James clinging. One hand pushed around to hold him by his waist, to keep his hips lifted as Steve pushed further into him, spread his legs further. His other came to the sensitive cock caught between them. Teasing it in the same stead. James arms wrapped around his head, fingers through his hair trying to keep strength and barely hanging on as Steve sucked on his nipple, tongue circling, offering no reprieve. Still thrusting into James, slow and even.

Taking in everything. Making sure they both felt _everything_.

He wasn't sure how he managed to stay gentle in the night. How he managed to avoid knotting him. But all he could think of was one thing, buzzing in the back of his mind. The Wolf in him humming with contentment at his _claim._

_Mine..._

.oOo.

He woke up with James in his arms. Their legs well tangled. Proof that the previous night hadn't been a dream. His own scent smothering the boy. The sweetness of his natural scent enough for Steve to pull him further in as he glanced at the clock and sighed.

He'd slept in.

James was still sleeping. Steve had managed not to knot him, but he'd certainly tired him out if anything. Still, he couldn't help thinking that he'd really _wake up_ any moment. He couldn't help himself as he lightly scented him, feeling the puffs of soft breath against his chest. James smelled different. Something gradual from the first night he'd stayed, but growing stronger every day. Something that deeply satisfied Steve, made him want to keep him more, to _protect_ him.

He almost didn't want to get up. So he waited. Waited for James to wake up with him, almost holding his breath when his breathing changed and those eyes finally fluttered opened.

But he only yawned before snuggling further in.

“_You're still here..._”

Steve couldn't help the smile.

“You seem upset each time you wake up without me...”

His only response was a soft, slight grumbly groan.

Steve kept half expecting the fantasy to suddenly fade. But James had stayed. He was real. And something that Steve had managed not to hurt... or _break._ It had been so long that he... he just wanted to be near him the whole day. Beyond just watching him to make sure he didn't get into anything Steve didn't want him near. And seeing him smile...

Steve couldn't help but feel his heart clench at that beautiful face.

They spent the next few days until the full moon almost like long lost lovers that had found each other again. And the more he had James, the calmer his blood felt, but the more he _wanted._ James didn't return to the guest room Steve had given him. Every night, he'd come back to Steve's bed. Even if not for sex and just... to not be alone. But he was less shy than he initially seemed. Every morning, they'd wake up together. James would try to convince him to sleep in. Nearly every moment, they spent together. Steve would work and James would sometimes help, but more often try to pull him away from working.

He was sweet. Mischievous. It was hard to imagine why anyone would want to hurt him. The reminder just made Steve want to protect him more.

When he'd let James stay, he'd just wanted to make sure he'd survive. And he guessed that was the reality check he needed. If he wanted to keep James safe. He'd have to make sure the beast couldn't get to him. Anything was better than that.

He'd considered it...

The first night James stayed.

And maybe it was selfish of him to not have used this method, but he'd figured it was always less dangerous when that beast was allowed to roam free rather than chained up. He couldn't take that risk this time. And he didn't plan on it. Whether he marked him or not, and especially not if James wasn't up to it before moonrise.

Still. Staring at that silver door always made his skin itch. His blood burn inside his veins. At least the weakness still stood. Even if it wasn't nearly as strong as it was before...

_He took a breath._

.oOo.

Bucky looked up from his book. He'd been enjoying his time in the library and was thankful for the space. He felt at peace. Though he knew it wasn't something that could last forever. Grant had proven _difficult_. The sprites had been right, he was protective... Kinder than Bucky had expected from that first day... But as much as Bucky tried to get him to relax, it always seemed like there was something to work on. Which maybe wouldn't be a problem if Grant would take time to himself every now and again on his own. Bucky watched him close the door.

He'd thought things were getting better, he knew he'd have to leave sooner than later. But he was starting to worry... about him. About what might happen once he left. The moment his wings were healed, he planned to. But still, he couldn't stop himself being drawn to him. He thought it just might be a sexual attraction he'd be able to sate and move on, but it seemed like the more either played this game... the deeper they both fell.

He wanted to stay with him but he knew they should stay apart. And whatever Grant was hiding...

He sighed, it wouldn't matter, he couldn't let himself get attached. But he couldn't exactly stop his curious nature either. Or wanting to help or know the man who'd given him refuge for the price of his body. Sometimes it meant Bucky took his book and followed him, other times it meant trying to convince him to stay in the library. And sometimes...

“You disappeared...”

“I had... something to do.”

Bucky looked at him for a moment.

“Privately.”

“Yes.”

“... You could have said so...”

“You seemed content to keep reading.”

“And you're always working...”

“There's always work to be done.”

_Of course there was... _His hands were fidgeting with the key ring. He was nervous and Bucky could guess why from the first night he'd stayed.

“It's a full moon...”

“Yeah... still got a few things left to do. Firewood—.”

“You have plenty...”

“The roses—.”

Just his luck, the keys slipped out of his hand and when he reached down, he accidentally kicked them and they slid across the floor. Far enough to be closer to Bucky. He gave a sigh, seeming slightly upset before Bucky set his book down and crawled over to the keys. Low enough to the ground from the elegant sofa he'd been laying on that it made it the easier option. He paused on his hands and knees, looking down at the spread of keys. Counting. _Some of them iron... _Barely pausing as he closed his hand around it... _and felt nothing_.

He stopped at the shadow that fell over him.

_A Wolf._

He heard the man take a breath before seeing the same shadow move a hand through his hair, the image suddenly gone and recognizable as the man it belonged to. Then moving as Bucky felt him lean over him. Almost like a dog might mount a bitch, though he hardly seemed to notice as he reached for the same ring.

And Bucky's hand tightened on it.

He paused, but one of his arms wrapped around Bucky's waist. He seemed like he was trying to hold himself together, still nervous. Another part of him seemed... _disappointed_? And when he spoke, it was soft.

“The roses could use some attention...”

“We gave them that yesterday... They'll be okay...”

He tried to take the keyring, but Bucky still didn't let go. At that, he pulled Bucky with him, into his lap as he sat back, a brow raised. Bucky could feel the bulge in his pants pressed against him, still soft even, from how he was seated in Grant's lap. But he was fairly sure Grant hadn't noticed the position he'd put them in. Even if he'd stopped to stare at Bucky's ass before leaning down to get his keys back.

“James...?”

Bucky stared at him another moment before handing it back.

“One's missing.”

Grant looked unsure before counting them for a moment.

“Oh... did you see one fly off or—... no, it looks like all of them are here—.”

“There's one more lock in your home than those keys would unlock.”

Grant seemed surprised a moment before his brows furrowed.

“You counted the locks in my home?”

“I didn't have much else to do before...”

Steve glanced at him taking another breath. As if he'd been trying to decide if he should be upset over the fact or not.

“You can trust me...”

His expression softened at the words but he took another breath. His next movement bringing a hand to his shirt, undoing a few buttons and pulling out another key. One made of... _glass_... intricately made and beautiful.

“It's more delicate than the others...”

It also _wasn't_ made of glass. Not really. Bucky could feel the hidden magic pouring from it, the signature all too familiar. The glass was just an amorphous cover for a key that would change for equally magically adjusted locks. It was an old fashioned way that Faeries could create skeleton keys, and a basic spell but effective. Especially to keep unwanted parties away. Likely turning to iron if any other Faerie tried to touch it.

And under Bucky's touch, it remained that beautiful glass... _But that wasn't possible..._

His breath hitched and he felt Grant flinch under his touch, realizing his fingers had brushed a pectoral, the fine hairs on his skin... and becoming well aware of the position they were in once more. Grant must have fallen under the same realization because Bucky could feel the man's grip around his waist get tighter... _and the bulge grow firmer._

Bucky took a moment to let his magic flow through the key, to read it. This one only adjusted for three doors but he was able to see which, and exactly how. No mistake in the familiarity of the magic... Grant took his hand to stop his fingertips, the light touches still affecting him and Bucky couldn't help but blush at the feeling...

“... It's still early, I—.”

Bucky kissed him before he could talk himself out of staying. Sex was an easy way to manage that, to get him to _let go._

Grant kissed back, with equal fervor. Ready and able to take it a step further even. Before Bucky stopped him.

“I... want to try something...”

He moved himself to straddle Grant. Shuffling their clothes just enough. So that the spaces they'd need clear would be free. His hand sliding up and down the thick member he knew he was more than ready for. Grant still restless, but he'd been calmer. His own fingers came to check Bucky's pussy. His hands helping him when he finally positioned himself to slide down onto Grant's penis. A firm grip on his hips steadying him, patiently waiting while he adjusted.

Le Fae... he remembered something like this in his dreams. With someone else... but it was different then. The feeling, the place, the person, the—... all of it was different. And he was still getting used to using his cunt so frequently. To using it _at all. _He'd hardly known it could feel like this but they'd... _they'd always avoided it before, promises that after the war they'd—_.

He closed his eyes, willing the feeling to go away as he started moving his hips. Getting lost in the pleasure of it. Grant always reached the deepest place of him, managed to fill him completely. Cover every sweet spot. Bucky could swear they were made for one another, could swear by how much he wanted it, by how _dangerous_ this would be if Grant were truly—.

He'd been more than prepared to make himself someone's whore, at the expense of his own discomfort even, just to get away from those men. But in truth, he'd become more of a slut. Willing to do this regardless of whether he needed to. _Regardless of whether or not he was betraying someone..._

_Regardless of who he used to love..._

Rocking his hips back and forth on him, in his lap. All he could think of was the man inside of him. _How far had he fallen..._

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said there was gonna be porn...
> 
> mm... i suppose there *could* be moar~<3<3<3
> 
> goddammit, this wasn't even supposed to have that much in depth plot, but. well.
> 
> fuck me.
> 
> ...
> 
> i need onions and horror...
> 
> or attention and inspiration~<3<3<3


	5. Preserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky can't bear to lose his memories to his own self corruption.
> 
> Steve can't bear to lose him, regardless of the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all, i'm tired...
> 
> and distracted again, like you have no idea, i need all the inspiration in just one area, cause right now it's all over the place and i can't
> 
> I WANT TO BUT I CAN'T, SATAN PLEASE HALP!!
> 
> or like, just honestly, feed me some goddamn attention, that does tend to work somewhat, i definitely don't need an even more inflated ego, but let's be honest here, flattery gets you everywhere with me
> 
> and
> 
> i have no fucking shame
> 
> whatsoever~<3

.oOo.

Steve tired him out.

Almost too easily. But he realized it was maybe for the best. Even as he moved the strands of hair from James' face, captivated by him, by the peace and innocence of his sleeping features. The beauty in it... Steve knew that everything he wanted from this young man, so vulnerable and trusting in his arms... it was _wrong_. Wrong of him to want. Wrong of him to take... But he couldn't stop himself. From wanting. From _taking._ The _familiarity _of _everything_ that James was...

Like a lost piece he never wanted to let go of. He knew he was losing himself. But he'd already lost _him_... He couldn't lose James too...

He pressed another kiss on his forehead.

The earlier the better. Less chance of the beast taking control before he could get what he needed to do done. Get _where _he needed to be. Everything else was set. The last he could hope was that James would sleep through the night. That he could come back to him sane by the time the moon faded from the sky.

Still, part of him didn't want to leave James. But if he was completely honest with himself... this should have been the option he'd chosen from the start.

_He never claimed to be perfect._

He hardly noticed by the time he'd walked to that silver door. Knowing he'd locked up everything behind himself as he felt it burn under his skin when he touched it. Locking himself in. Setting the key aside. Staring at each silver shackle laying open on the ground. Slivers of additional unrefined silver ore in the brick of the walls, dried wolf's bane lining them at every corner of the room. The ground, packed earth. The same wolf's bane, hardened by a Witch's blessing, the only thing that could grow through that dirt, towards the edges. Where it wouldn't get ripped up but keep him in place. Built in irrigation kept them watered, silver in the filtration system heightened their nourishment, and toxicity. The only light they ever saw existed in the near nonexistent windows at the very edge of the basement room. And the angle of their placement ensured it was only ever moonlight. Maybe the only comfort this room could offer.

The aconite alone could easily kill a normal wolf. A normal _Lycan..._ To anyone, this room would be an inescapable hell. A torture chamber for Steve's own kind. But it was the only thing that existed able to contain him. He only stopped using it because he had to refine it every damn time. His body trying to develop a _tolerance_ for the only things that might save someone from him. Magic held every bit of sound in, and gave push back to help contain him when all else failed.

He could already feel himself getting sick. But he could also feel the moon getting stronger... _without even a drop of light in sight._

_The first in 12 generations, and not the slightest control..._

He took his clothes off and set them aside. With any luck, they wouldn't become the target of aggression in this cage. He walked over to the shackles, locking them around his wrists and holding in the growl at the sting on his skin.

_With any luck, he'd be too weak to move._

.oOo.

“_Stevie, look!”_

_Bucky can't help being excited or proud. It's not every day this happens. And he can't help smiling at the mesmerized look his friend has, staring at the glowing sprite that brightly floats in front of him._

_“_Whoa_... what is it?”_

_What... is it? Bucky frowns._

_“It's a sprite, you stupid punk! My first sprite!”_

_“Oh! Well in that case, congratulations Bucky!”_

_And just like that, Steve is wagging his tail again and Bucky can't hold onto the anger. Ever since that day, they became nearly inseparable. _

_Stevie had helped him find his way home, even if it had seemed like dumb luck then, he'd followed his nose and caused enough disturbance in the forest that the Elders had been able to find Bucky, at the same time finding his own way, or rather a family of wolves that knew the way and didn't seem to mind the pup. The Elders had scolded Bucky. Not really giving him much chance to explain himself. Despite the Princess having left him, standing there without a word to say, letting him take the blame._

_Steve might have jumped in and started barking if Bucky hadn't put up a magic barrier to stop him. Weak, but enough to stop him. They'd certainly heard the growling. But he didn't want to be in any more trouble than he was then, and he didn't want to get anyone else in trouble either._

_Still, he'd felt the need to thank Steve. Being one of the Fae meant being honor bound to do so. And when he found him again, the pup didn't contain his excitement. Happily jumping him and licking his face. But when Bucky offered to repay his debt, of course the pup would say there wasn't anything he wanted. Insisting they were friends._

_Naturally, this meant Bucky had to come back to him until he thought of something. Always with Steve helping him get back well before the Elders would have cause to worry. Helping him know the forest..._

_Now that Bucky has his first sprite though, his magic is getting stronger, hopefully enough to make Steve think of something. He isn't the brightest Wolf Bucky's ever met, not that Bucky's met many Wolves. He knows they share a connection to the moon, like the Fae, but the few he has met are big and scary._

_But Steve is... Steve's just Steve. He's sweet and stupid and always so full of life, despite being small. Full of fight and rambunctious nature. He makes the forest seem less scary. And he's made it so that Bucky doesn't have to worry about getting lost again. And with his first sprite, he can finally do something amazing for Steve in return._

“_What's a sprite for?”_

_Le Fae! How could this—._

_Bucky can't help the frustrated blush from blooming. But it quickly fades as he struggles to find a coherent answer. Starting and stopping repeatedly, staring back at an innocent smiley face on the young Wolf waiting for an answer._

“_I... um... they help the Fae... with magic... and stuff...”_

_Steve's still looking at him expectantly. Bucky takes a breath before continuing._

“_It means my magic's getting stronger.”_

_Still staring._

“_So I can... you know... do something for you? So I won't owe you anymore...”_

“_Oh.”_

_Steve's got that face he gets when he's thinking hard on something. Bucky knows it's coming before it's plastered on his face, but he still wants to kick himself the moment he sees that puppy pout._

“_But you _don't_ owe me anything, Bucky. We're friends—... I mean... aren't we?”_

_Bucky can't help returning his own pout and blowing the loose hair on his forehead out of the way. It falls back to the same place._

“_I—... that's not fair. I just... you helped me. I'm trying to do the right thing and help you back but you won't let me.”_

_Steve smiles at that, big and bright before he's on Bucky, squeezing him tight._

“_That's real swell, Buck. I'm happy you wanna do something good for me. But the thing about friends is... they do good stuff for each other without needing anything in return. That's why you don't owe me anything. I was just doin' what friends do!”_

_Bucky sputters at that. Steve says it almost every time but he just _knows_ he's gotta do this. If the butterflies in his stomach every time he's around Steve are anything to go by, he just _knows.

“_But I... as one of the Fae, I'm honor bound to repay my debts. We weren't... we'd just met then, Stevie. We couldn'ta been friends yet...”_

_Steve's tail stops wagging at the words and he looks thoughtful again. Before he can say anything, they both hear the rustle. The plants laying down to make way for someone else. And he senses the familiar magic. His sprite hiding behind him. Standing in front of Steve as if to hide him too. Bowing his head to show the respect he already knows she'll expect._

“_Princess...”_

“_James.”_

_She's staring at him with those blank and dark eyes of hers. The ones that feel like they're looking straight through him, every time. They're cousins. With an equal chance for rule according to the Elders. But the disparity is clear. She's always been so much stronger. She was born with 2 sprites present, and had already gained her 4th. The blood of Morgaine Le Fae clear in her features alone. She was favored. She would be Queen._

_Bucky was the extra. A weak, poor excuse for the Le Fae bloodline. The delicate disgrace. The Elders coddle him because he's too fragile to be on his own. Because his family is gone and the Elders are kind. The only reason they deem him worthy of rule because their mothers were twins. And his mother was born in the light of a full moon, her own mother born just shy of catching it, under the guard of clouds. She was born under a similar guard of clouds, but he was born in the same light of a full moon. Supposedly something special. But there's nothing special about him._

_His mother was weak and delicate, just the same as him. But at least she'd been born with a sprite and strong magic to show for her bloodline._

_He has nothing._

_She makes sure he knows this every time._

“_What are you hiding?”_

_Bucky shakes his head but he knows what's coming._

“_Do you intend to defy me, James?”_

_Steve peaks out along with Bucky's sprite before he can muster up a response. And the disgust on her face is immediate and clear. A small, dirty Lycan pup. Trying to catch a single, measly sprite._

“_Is this what you've been doing with your time? Wasting it away with a mongrel? I wonder what the Elders would say...”_

“_N-n—... you ca—... please don't tell them! Stevie's my friend!”_

“Stevie_... Royalty should not be making friends with _dogs, _James. And what's this, your first sprite? How... cute.”_

_She says it but it's clear she doesn't mean it. Steve doesn't get the memo._

“_Yep! Super cute! Bucky's got his first sprite! His magic's getting stronger!”_

_She stares at Steve with that calculated anger of hers. Bucky's scared enough to have the sprite pull Steve away from her. But he doesn't expect the strong magic she uses to catch his sprite, like a magnet, flying straight to her hand._

“_Is that so? A reward for misbehavior? I don't think so. I think you and I both know _you_ don't deserve _**any**._”_

_He feels it before he knows what's happened. Sharp pain coursing through him as she uses dark magic to corrupt the sprite. To siphon what magic it holds. To kill that part of Bucky's spirit. He knows. It's natural to their bloodline. He never thought she'd—._

_He hears the growl before he sees what happens._

_Steve doesn't hesitate. Jumping her and biting her so she has no choice but to let go. The pain stops. But by the time Bucky can register, the damage is done. He runs over, pulling Steve off of her. But she's furious. And hurt. And _bleeding.

.oOo.

Bucky woke up nauseated.

He barely managed to pull himself to the bathroom in time. Flushing down what he'd coughed up by the time he could think.

He remembered... He'd been remembering. Moments he'd spent with that boy. He hadn't even remembered she was capable of causing him so much pain...

But she was only a child then. Still learning her way.

Children can be cruel.

Elegance and poise, always focused on what's proper. She was likely Queen by now. The very picture of everything a daughter of Le Fae should be.

He gave a humorless huff before getting up to clean himself.

That day, he'd discovered Steve was a Prince. He'd only bit her on the wrist, but it was enough to have her running back to tell the Elders. Steve wasn't willing to back down. Bucky almost couldn't stop him, the pup proving so much stronger than his small stature made him look.

The Elders were livid. Enough for Bucky to try to explain his debt. Steve's help. Anything to protect him.

“_That mangy mutt bit me, and you would defend him over your own family!”_

“_I only bit you cause you were tryin' to hurt him! You ain't got no right to call him family when you treat him like he's less than you!”_

They'd detained Steve, trying to figure out what to do with him. He was only a pup after all. But he'd also harmed Royalty. It was only when his mother came, looking for him with a familiar and very important Lycan, one of the Royal Guard, that anyone had realized who he was.

She'd quickly managed to diffuse the situation.

“_If you believe my son is lying, then look into his memories. He'll give you permission.”_

They did. Seeing the truth for once. It was the first time they scolded her. It also made them worry and coddle Bucky more. Still scolding him for not having told the truth before, but otherwise allowing his friendship with Steve. A Royal connection seen as a boon they might collect in the future.

After all... the Wolves used to be Guardians of the Fae.

A connection Bucky never wanted them to know about when it finally became real. Once they grew older...

He took a breath as he rinsed his mouth. He couldn't keep doing this. Not to himself. Not to Grant...

_To Steve..._

He could deal with the dreams of shared company, of being in the young man's arms, of intimate moments with lasting effect when he woke. The dreams of the boy he knew, the reminders of _who_ he was just made his heart hurt that much more. Even as he felt the moon shining in, the glow of magic flowing through him, refreshing him, healing him. All Bucky could really feel was the _guilt_ and pain of his own betrayal. Of who he'd become.

Of what he'd done to the memory of the person who'd never done anything but love him.

He needed to leave. No more waiting, no more delay. He couldn't keep doing this. He gave a shuddered breath, waiting a long moment just feeling the moon flow through him...

And then he noticed...

Grant wasn't there.

But maybe that was for the best. He'd insisted Bucky shouldn't stay from the first day. Tried to convince him to be on his way the second. Had even prepared a bag for him... maybe he should have listened from the start. He took another breath, quickly heading back to the guest room. He'd eaten the snacks and drank the water on a day Grant had taken him through the forest for hunting and some foraged supplies. He'd still seemed wary to have Bucky around him at all then, but still grateful for the company by the end of it.

Bucky quickly dressed himself, packing an extra set of clothes, the same supplies, then going to refill the canteen. He waited, sitting in the light of the full moon, as it poured in from the window. Watching as his wings stitched themselves back together. As the final piece of chitin healed into place. His magic wasn't at its strongest yet, but it was enough. If he could fly, he could escape. He half expected to run into Grant, suddenly asking him what he was doing up. But he only felt his heart sink at the absence of him, convincing himself that this was better. This was for the best.

Ignoring every murmur the sprites could muster.

He tied his hair up, ready to go. The moment his hand touched the doorknob—.

_'Stop!'_

He took another breath, fully ready to ignore them—.

_'He's hurt!'_

_'He **needs **you.'_

_'He'll protect you!'_

_'_They're coming._'_

Bucky's eyes widened. A full moon cycle and—. _No, it couldn't be._ All of them were _gone_. The ones that knew where he'd gone, what direction, the one's that followed him—.

_'They're running out of time.'_

_'Desperate.'_

_He had his magic now, he would be fine._

_'Not recovered! Not enough!'_

_'He won't be.'_

_'They have a Witch.'_

_'She helps them!'_

_'He loves you.'_

_'He always has...'_

The last one near broke him. But he found himself pushing with magic to confirm what they told him. Torches in the distance, guns. Dark magic aiding them in blessing, but not directly. Their Witch wasn't physically present but she was powerful. _Insanely so_. An immediate push back near too much. He could barely dispel it.

_'Find him.'_

He ran, knowing he didn't have much time before they got there. Looking for Grant. Looking for _any_ trace of him. He could feel their presence closing in on the house. See the light of their torches as he still hid in the shadows. Coming across the last door.

The iron door. Another shuddered breath as the sprites went silent.

He used magic to make a phantom key, a copy from the glass one he'd observed on Grant. Adjusting accordingly, unlocking the door.

Two stairs. One leading up. The other down.

He knew which way to go.

But it wasn't until he saw the silver door that he felt any _unnerving_ sensation.

_His stomach hurt._

He opened it. The same as before. _And what he saw..._

A Wolf. A _Lycanthrope._

_Huge. _With dark golden fur. Streaks of lighter tones patterned in. A near moonlit glow of goldish white on the lightest parts. From the slivers of light barely managing to peak in. He was _abnormally_ large. Much bigger than any Wolf Bucky had ever seen... Big enough that it wouldn't take many bites for him to devour someone. The muscle on him enough to show for a perfect predator. It wouldn't take much for him to win the fight.

_Any fight._

He was shackled. Chained to the wall. Weakened. Pure silver cutting into his skin, burning into his bloodstream, surrounded by _poison._

_This would kill a normal Wolf..._

Bucky's breath hitched. And the _growl_ that followed said he was _far_ from dead. Golden eyes were staring back at him.

_Familiar._

_Wolves are dangerous creatures, but they had once been Guardians of the Fae..._

The hostility when Bucky approached was clear but he made no move to bite. Rage poured from him. He was barely subdued by the Fae's magic Bucky had. And still... _there wasn't the slightest recognition in the golden eyes staring back at him._

_He heard the lock of a door break in the distance._

Bucky felt his heart clench. But still, he pressed on. Allowing the Wolf to scent his palm, the growl calming to something low in warning as his hands hesitated over the shackles to unlock them.

_He let him go._

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well
> 
> that happened~...
> 
> i wonder what kind of *consequences* there might be in the next chapter~<3<3<3
> 
> and what about that fae princess... hmmmmmmm, any guesses on who she might be~? 
> 
> ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))


	6. Silence Kept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weight of Bucky's debt is now clear.
> 
> The weight of Steve's secret is getting heavier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why helloooooooooo~ everyone<3<3<3
> 
> today felt like a good time to post, i hope those that would are having a wonderous dead bird celebration~ 
> 
> peace and harmony are actually a wonderful cause to enjoy~, really this day is more of a... 'we didn't kill each other for two seconds because we had a common enemy so let's celebrate by eating gizzards and gravy but i'm only tolerating you for the moment, i plan to kill you later', but really... isn't that all we can ask for in peace~?
> 
> tolerating those around you for the mere moment while you plot their slow and painful demise... yes...
> 
> no? is that just me? well, fuck, did y'all forget i'm a demon? a bitch? a cunt?
> 
> that got morbid real quick~ do i have terrible taste?
> 
> my roast human isn't done-what?
> 
> i didn't say that... nothing, enjoy the chapter~!
> 
> and try not to lose your dinner, nothing too graphic i hope, but i'm sure it was delicious and i wouldn't want all that eating to go to waste~... heheheh~<3<3<3

.oOo.

_The little Fae would have been easy to devour._

_He was small. Sweet smelling. His skin soft. Flesh tender. But the little Fae had a different purpose. The Wolf remembered. The **claim** in his scent clear enough. The mark mixed with his own scent. He'd been inside this little Fae._

_He remembered knotting the little thing. Marking him. The _temptation_ to do **more**, but the poor Fae had lost consciousness. The changes in his scent were satisfactory. New. He would serve this purpose _**perfectly**_... beautifully..._

_No, this one was not for eating. He's too valuable for that... too... precious. _Too familiar.

_He's in pain, the Wolf noticed. Quickly pushing him out of the room. Away from the toxins present._

_His blood was strong, but one who had yet to draw the first breath of life would not have the resistance he's built. The weakness enough to take that chance away from it. He could not take that risk. It's clear his growl startled the Fae. But he did not fight. There was fear in his scent, but... strangely... not meant for the Wolf._

_He let the Wolf scent him. Nose brushed where it was strongest. Where he last marked the little Fae. He could scent himself. The two of them mixed. A breath blown from his nose to show the Fae he was no threat. Not to him. Never to him..._

_He wanted to lick him. And fuck him. And knot him. But he smelled _other_ scents in __**his**__ territory. Scents that were... _that were causing his little Fae**fear**_. Scents that must be eliminated. That _could_ be __**devoured**__._

_He pushed the Fae a safe distance, then went for his _ _ **hunt** _ _. For his _ **meal** _._

_He ran._

_His prey always seemed surprised but the Wolf had never understood why. He very rarely chose stealth as a means to kill. He often preferred the taste of fear on them. Fear is _delicious_._

_Their screams were a familiar sound. A recognized mantra that followed his hunts. The taste of blood and bone were welcome. He abandoned half a body for the prey that shot him. They didn't stay embedded in his flesh for long. Iron bullets. _ **They saught to hurt his Fae.**

_They would suffer for it._

_The moon gave him strength. Healed what the toxins wrought, what pathetically small wounds they might inflict. And he announced the coming deaths of the remaining intruders with a howl._

_They would not escape._

_They could not escape._

_ **But they were welcome to try...** _

.oOo.

Steve woke up with a shudder. The prickle of cold making itself known on his bare skin.

He was naked. Curled up in the snow.

Half covered in blood.

A human arm in his mouth, half stripped of the meat on it. Fang indents drilled into the exposed bone from knawing.

Another shudder and he dropped it. Tattered cloth remains were scattered in a few spots. He remembered the _rush_. The adrenaline that filled the hunt. The screams that filled their lungs. The taste of every victim giving their last breath. Glimpses of the night the moon had given him. There was a reason he tended to stay alone in this manor.

He didn't recognize the arm. _Or what was left of it._

And it brought a sickening relief to him.

He didn't... _recognize it..._

_Oh god..._

_James._

He couldn't remember his face or a scream from him but he remembered the scent of _fear_ thick on him. And—.

_ **Oh dear god, please no.** _

He ran. The sting of the ice and snow weren't enough to hinder him. He couldn't get hypothermia. But he only had one thought in mind as he rushed to find him. The feelings of relief, subsequent guilt, and additional fear only heightening with each new _piece_ of a body he'd managed to find. He was sure that some traces of victims were _completely_ gone. Every part of them—... _as if wiped from existence_.

The worst part was knowing he'd been guilty of that before, while fully conscious, without influence of the beast that lurked within. The monster tended to be messier.

He gave a choked, humorless laugh at the thought. _As if they were any different._

Impulse.

_Instinct._

The only difference was his own inhibition. He always figured it was less painful, the quicker the death. Didn't want to be reminded with clean up afterward. The moon gave him a different approach. Pride for his kills. For the remnants. For their pain.

_No... the worst part was knowing how little he cared. Regardless of what part of him took control._

But James... _god, James..._ the sweet and naive boy who'd come here seeking refuge... Steve's mind was reeling. He could catch his scent, his blood—.

He took a breath to calm himself down. The chance that he survived was... he stared at the broken lock on the front door of his home. No claw marks, which meant those people had broken in. A different sort of rage filling him. _If they were the reason he—_...

He paused. He heard it... _A heartbeat._

The quiet overtaking the house making it clear in his hearing. Faint. Weak. _Someone_ was _**alive**__._

His own heart beating faster as he tuned his hearing to it. In hope he _knew_ shouldn't be there... was likely misplaced. Barely a whisper of a choked name escaping him. Before a firmer call in question. And he heard the heart quicken. Following it, the nerves leaving a sinking feeling in his gut. Fear. He could sense it. _Scent_ it. Following the faint sound to the locked door of the guest room. Claw marks _were_ on this door. But not persistent. Like he'd lost interest. He'd marked James the night before. Maybe not thoroughly, maybe not... _but maybe..._

The heartbeat kept getting faster, the fear even thicker. He forced the lock and could sense the panic. He saw the blow coming before it hit him. His reflexes moving to stop the arms, holding firm, and the growl escaping him before he could stop it. Staring at the scared young boy he'd met one month ago, one moon cycle...

There were bruises on him. On his arm. On his shoulder. On his cheek, just under one eye. His lip cut. His clothes torn. His hair had been tied up, but had fallen out of place. Things misplaced and broken in the room. He held a priceless vase he'd been more than willing to smash over Steve's head.

Over an assailant's head, more likely.

_There was a dead man on the floor. A body still intact, which meant the Wolf hadn't been the one to kill him._

Tears welled the moment he recognized Steve. Nearly dropping the vase as Steve quickly caught it and set it aside. No sooner did James tightly hang onto Steve from that moment.

Wailing.

He was wailing. Sobbing. Crying in the deepest _pain_ as Steve barely hesitated to hold him just as close. Fingers through his hair, holding his head at Steve's chest. The other hand tightly wrapped around his waist. A mantra of his name escaping Steve once he could realize it, as if confirming that he was _real_ and _**safe**_.

He just continued crying.

Steve pressed a kiss to the top of his head, on his hair.

_James was alive_...

.oOo.

Steve checked him over. There were no scratches. No bites on him. But James hadn't spoken. He cleaned the cut on his lip, gave him a crushed herbal remedy, some of the yellow mountain flowers he'd gathered, to help with the bruising.

He'd also put on pants. And made him tea to warm up. Broken locks and doors weren't great for keeping the cold out.

He could only hope James hadn't seen enough to make the connection... that the Wolf hadn't... hurt him.

He handed him the cup of tea. Quietly watching him.

“James...”

James closed his eyes and set the tea down, wiping at them before the tears could fall.

“What happened...?”

He stared at Steve for a moment. Maybe gauging him but his expression wasn't readable beyond a boy in pain, there was a blankness to it that might be unsettling for someone who wouldn't know what he must have seen... He just shook his head as Steve sighed. He moved to take another sip of the tea but quickly stopped, eyes widening as he covered his mouth. Steve barely reacted in time. Quickly grabbing the nearest waste bin and then watching James throw up.

The reaction wasn't surprising although delayed. If he'd witnessed _any_ of the horrors that took place last night, it would be all too appropriate. Maybe he hadn't seen enough to make the connection, but undoubtedly... _he'd seen enough..._

Steve knew he might end up coughing up jewelry later on too. He could digest almost anything on a body. The fibers of cloth, hardened leather, bone, cartilage. All of it fairly easily dissolved. He just couldn't digest metal or stone. But rather than passing it, he always ended up hacking it back up. Not the most convenient, but a natural reaction, in case the metal ingested was something toxic he shouldn't be eating.

He should know. _He's tried._

He helped James, cleaned him up, made sure he could rest.

But he also knew he had more to clean up.

“_The Wolf..._”

He looked up at the words spilling from James' lips. Voice soft, nearly lost like he'd cried himself hoarse. Steve wasn't really surprised. He'd spent so much time just crying when Steve found him. He stared back at those tired eyes that suddenly seemed to have a lifetime of _sorrow _behind them. Steve took his hand, listening, James squeezed back.

“_He protected me... he... they tried to hurt me... tried to-to capture me... There were so many, I just couldn't—..._”

They tried to rip his wings away. Again. The sprites had been right. He hadn't recovered enough. Not for the magic that protected them...

“Hey... James... it's okay. Nothing that happened last night was your fault—... I... whatever they wanted, whatever they were doing here...”

“_Me... they wanted... me... but he... he didn't hurt me..._”

Steve stayed quiet a moment, taking a breath. Maybe the mark had been enough then. But some things still weren't adding up...

“Who were they...?”

“... _Hydra..._”

_That... what?_

When Steve didn't respond, Bucky continued.

“_A group that hunts Cryptids... trying to purge or control them for humanity's gain... to rid the world of _impurity..._ they've been around since the second world war... but..._”

_There were always those that hunted them..._

“I... I know who they were_—are..._ that's just—.”

Steve cut himself off. _Not possible._ He wanted to say, he'd made sure of it. _In the worst way possible._ He fought in the war, lost the love of his life to those—... he _made sure_. _But did he really?_ It only took one full moon to break the ice he was trapped in. But he'd still had control then, he'd still had...

“How long did they have you?”

“_I don't know... I... lost track after the first few years..._”

There stopped being a reason to count. To _hope_ after the first few _months_...

Steve gave a nod before leaving Bucky to sleep. At this point, he needed it.

_._oOo.

He felt like a butcher.

He'd gone through and collected every single body. Or what was _left_ of them. The bones could be dried and ground for the roses. The meat... a good part of it had already been stripped. But it helped to put the remains on ice for the next full moon. If there's less hunger, there's less danger. It had been a while since he'd made himself _kibble_. But then, it had been a while since he'd had a fully intact body to cut up... come to think of it, his first assumption would be maybe a blunt trauma for how James had managed to kill this man.

But there was no mark, no bruising. He was completely clean... Maybe he'd ended up dying of fright. Wouldn't be the first time...

He took a breath, setting the cleaver down as he felt a _different _sensation run through him. _Yeah, seemed about right._

He moved over to the sink, washing his hands of the blood before he felt his stomach turn again, the feel of metal coming back up. It took a few coughs before it was out, and he could see what was in his hand.

A ring.

Large, clunky. Platinum by the looks of it, and... a red gem. _With a familiar emblem._

As if mocking him. Confirming what James had told him. A skull with tentacles, curling as they stretched from it. He clenched his hand around it and felt the gem crack. When he opened it, he saw the metal misshapen.

This... couldn't be. She would have told him if... He took another breath. Shuddered. _Years_ after his death, and he still couldn't—. He still hadn't done right by the person he loved.

He couldn't even _fucking_ remember him, and here he was, fawning over some kid that—...

_Never again._

He'd be damned if he let James suffer the same fate. He'd be damned if he let him suffer at all and fade from his memories... He couldn't let that happen. And maybe... _maybe_ whatever James was... maybe it could keep him _safe_ from the Wolf, at least—.

“_He protected me...”_

Maybe... he could actually _save_ someone for once...

_._oOo.

When Bucky woke up, Grant wasn't there. It wasn't surprising. Expected even, with everything that happened last night, it was easy to see why there was always so much work to do. _With what Grant—..._

No... If he wanted to keep his secret, Bucky would let him. After all, he still kept his own. Even more now that... he was _different. _Because of what Hydra had done to him. And he still wasn't sure whether they were blessings or curses. They certainly weren't intended from what he could tell. The men had brought iron with them to hurt him, but... touching it didn't seem to hurt anymore.

Still, he couldn't help feeling a little disappointed, waking up without him...

_And the Lycan..._

It was easy to see why the sprites had brought him here, why they'd said he would protect him. To trust him. _Why he'd been drawn to him..._ The _fear_ Grant had. Of hurting him, of—... _he'd chosen to **mark** Bucky that first night... _and hide himself this night. But he'd saved Bucky. Twice now.

_'The Fae are honor bound.'_

_'To repay debts!'_

_'He's happy you're safe.'_

_'But confused.'_

_'He'll be happier if you stay.'_

_'He doesn't want to lose you again.'_

_Again? _

Bucky took a breath. Honor bound... to repay debts. And his magic still hadn't fully recovered. Whatever they'd last done must have slowed his healing process, he knew that. But his system should have filtered it by now. It felt like something different was slowing his magic now. And it almost felt deliberate. Or... purposeful, something like a natural response in his body. _Maybe it was his punishment for betraying the Fae's Handfasting..._

He took another breath before getting up to go find Grant. The mansion felt more empty than usual as he walked through the halls. But the cold draft that had been there wasn't as strong. When he looked, he could see certain spots marked for repair. Grant must have cleaned up the bodies and gone through checking over what was broken. The lock on the front door was already fixed, but Bucky didn't see Grant.

He used his magic to sense him. He was—... _oh..._

He walked over there. Quiet as he saw Grant sigh and close the iron door. Locking it. He seemed frustrated.

“Did you see them pick the lock on this door?”

Bucky shook his head. He knew what he'd done. But telling Grant might just make him upset or angry.

“Are you sure? The lock isn't supposed to be pickable...”

Bucky might have flinched if he had a better sense of shame. Instead, he just shook his head again. Grant looked at him a moment, his brows furrowed but his face passive. He took a steady breath before walking closer to Bucky. His hand came to Bucky's cheek, thumb softly brushing by the bruise under his eye.

“What are you doing up? You should rest more...”

He was about to pull away before Bucky tugged on the sleeve of his flannel. Grant didn't say anything else, but he understood well enough, just holding Bucky close at the silent request.

_._oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm in a good mood~
> 
> also, still need inspiration, feed me attention, you heathens.


	7. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky wants to wash away the guilt his dreams bring.
> 
> Steve dreams, but he knows the memories surfacing can't be real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bitch.
> 
> i swear this was supposed to have more plot...

.oOo.

“_Stevie, wait—.”_

“_She's gone, Buck...”_

_Bucky remains quiet a moment. Steve knows he's worried. If there were ever a time for him to need his mate, it would be now. But he can't decide. He wants to be alone. He wants Bucky by his side. He doesn't want to see Bucky worrying. He doesn't want Bucky to see him like this. Answer should be simple, right?_

_But some part of him needs Bucky to get through this._

_His Ma was the only person who knew. She'd planned on organizing a formal ball to announce their union, make it official. Compared to the hidden backwater thing they did when they were too young to really understand what it meant, it—... it would have been special. The Wolves never took much stock in her word, even as their Queen, but she... she'd been so proud of them. For choosing love, for—..._

A disgrace.

Some King.

Can't even turn.

Halfblood weakli—.

“_Stevie...”_

_Steve takes a breath. Then finally unlocks the door with the spare key Bucky hands to him. He might be the only blessing he has left in all of this. He sticks close to Steve. And when Steve sits down, Bucky's there, down to his knees just to comfort him, arms resting on Steve's lap and lookin' at him. He's pulled down the hood of his cloak._

_Steve wants to cry, he wants to let go. But despite it, the tears won't come._

_His Ma's gone, and he can't shed a single tear for her._

_The house is empty. And Bucky notices._

“_Where... where is everyone?”_

“_I sent them home...”_

“_Like... fired them?”_

“_Not exactly...”_

“_Then why would they just... Steve?”_

“_I told them all to go home, Buck.”_

“_But—.”_

“_Ireland. They all went back. I didn't give them a choice.”_

_Bucky's eyes widen at the implication. There's only one designation of Lycan that can do that. He knew Steve was special, he didn't think..._

“_First one in 12 generations and I'm a piss poor excuse for a Wolf. They wouldn't say, but they're all afraid of me. Can't even turn, and they're all afraid of me. She never told them. She was going to... but she didn't get the chance.”_

“_Stevie... they just don't understand. It's been so long, but they'll need you. You're their King and—.”_

“_M'not... I can't be. I'm just a kid with the King's blood in me... a halfbreed. Never even met him. I don't know who I'm supposed to be or what I'm supposed to do, Buck...”_

“_You don't hafta be anything, Stevie... and no matter what happens, I'll be with you... I'm with you 'til the end a the line... you know that...”_

_It's those words that finally have the tears streaming down Steve's face. He knows he's crying on his mate. He knows he's not anything he should be for a pack Alpha. For a King of his people. But somehow... as long as he has Bucky, that's okay. With him, it's always been okay..._

_Bucky comforts him, and Steve leans down to take that comfort, kissing him like they haven't done in a while. He knows he shouldn't. They shouldn't fall on this pattern. This habit of using sex to wash away all the bad and not think about it. They'll make mistakes if they do this. But some part of him can't help it. He needs Bucky..._

_And he doesn't want to think right now..._

Still...

_He has to force himself to pull away. He can't do this to Bucky, use him like this when..._

“_I should probably get the fire going...”_

_The house is cold. It has been since..._

_Bucky only looks at him a moment, then with a wave of his hand, the flames are lit. Strong and warm. That warmth spreading through the room quickly enough with his magic. Steve doesn't smile or smirk like he normally does. He can't bring himself to, even if he knows Bucky is worrying._

_And those eyes, glowing like the moon. A stunning silver as if toned with ultraviolet and the soft blues of his magic. The only silver Steve's ever been able to be anywhere near. That he's ever thought beautiful..._

“_It's okay, Stevie...”_

_And Bucky knows how to break him down, every time... he's the only person who can. Who Steve would ever let in. He kisses him again. And the next he knows, he's pushed Bucky onto that carpet. Looming over him, sitting between his legs and Bucky's letting him. Steve may not be able to transform, not in any way that counts... but he still feels the moon like any other Lycan..._

_They lose their clothes before he notices, and now Bucky's under him, naked and moaning softly, trying to catch his breath. He always cums so easily, but then, the Fae don't take that long to couple. Short, rapid, and repeated sessions are what the species prefers. Almost like rabbits. Steve had found it cute that first time. Wolves are almost the opposite. Especially with knotting._

_He's dipped two fingers where he shouldn't, and looks at the surprise on Bucky's face passively. He knows what he's doing and what he wants to do. What he shouldn't do, but it's not until he scents the fear rising in Bucky's scent that it really weighs down on him and he stops to look._

_He's lined up on Bucky's pussy. The seam spread and those slick folds being rubbed by the head of his cock. Bucky hasn't made a move to stop him, but he's trembling._

_Steve pulls away. Bucky protests when he notices enough to open his eyes and stop trembling._

“_Stevie—.”_

“_You don't want this...”_

“_I—.”_

“_You're scared... I can scent your fear... You're not ready, Buck. It's okay... You don't have to do this for my sake.”_

“_I... I'm just... _*sigh*_... I'm only scared for what it might mean for the future. I don't know if my magic's strong enough, I don't know the spells. I've caught glimpses, but...”_

_The Elders still didn't know and Bucky might as well be as sheltered a Prince as they come. He's supposed to preserve himself until he forms a bond with another Fae the Elders might approve of. Or another moon blessed, compatible Cryptid of Royal lineage. The Elders may like Steve, but it's clear Bucky's not the person they would consider his union to be the most beneficial with. And he's still too young in their eyes..._

“_I'm not ready for a... a _baby_... but I want this, I want _you_... I'll have time, right? To get used to the idea... if it happens. Or... maybe it wouldn't, maybe I could—.”_

“_No... you're at your most fertile right now, I can smell it. You always are during the full moon... think I was actin' on instinct. If they find out like this... We shouldn't.”_

“_... Are you sure we can't—.”_

“_I _want_ to get you pregnant, Buck... Every full moon, even if I can't... change... I can feel it. Whatever we could do, I wouldn't trust myself... And I wouldn't wanna do that to you...”_

“_But you're still—.”_

“_I can manage... I have before...”_

_Bucky stays quiet a moment. The red that's come to his cheeks is beautiful. But there's never a moment he isn't... the Fae are famously known for it, after all. Steve picks up the nectar sweet scent after a moment. Floral. The Fae tend to have a floral scent... Bucky always smells like a rose, but sweeter... Familiar enough, it calms him down._

“_You don't have to... I don't want you to. Even if we don't... there are other ways.”_

_Steve's breath hitches when Bucky pushes himself closer, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers as his other wraps around Steve's hardened length._

“_Bucky—.”_

“_As long as you're with me, I'll be okay.”_

_Steve takes another breath. It's the easiest way they've managed to avoid it. Bucky's not as sensitive there, but it's still good for both of them. Enough to stave off the worst and keep it a secret. Steve just isn't sure he can stray like he has for much longer. Every time, the urges get stronger..._

“_Are you sure?”_

“_I trust you...”_

_He gives a nod before kissing Bucky again. He doesn't wanna pull away this time, but he has to pause to make sure he's not gonna mess this up and hurt Bucky. In the end, he manages. Bucky's looking up at him while Steve pushes inside him. Magic used to ease the path and make it slicker than it could be on its own. The seam on Bucky's perineum stays closed. But Steve can see it. See the way the pressure of each thrust just under it is affecting Bucky. See the way it opens slightly with the movement. It's a temptation, but this is enough._

_He's satisfied with just this._

_._oOo.

When Steve woke up, it took a moment to realize he'd been crying. His eyes opened slowly and he took a breath. James was curled into his side, clinging tightly. He'd held himself closer to Steve, as close as he could since that night. Always scared to step away, to...

_Bucky..._

He remembered... the name of—. _His face..._

He took another breath as he sat up looking down at James. From the angled jaw with softened edges, the cleft in his chin, sweet eyes, plush lips... _god... _everything in his dream _had _been James...

The only difference... _eyes that stared back at him with an innocence and purity Steve still longed for..._ James looked at him with eyes that had long since lost any hope...and even those had been _one and the same..._ His hair was longer, darker. But those same beautiful curls existed in those brunet tresses.

_But it just couldn't be—_No... he was projecting... he had to be. He was sure they shared some resemblance, _maybe_... but he knew this was just his mind playing tricks on him, pushing him to believe what he wanted more than _anything_ to be true. But he knew it couldn't be.

_He knew it far too well..._

Maybe it had been the reason he couldn't deny James... the reason he found himself wanting to protect him, to keep him,_ falling for him..._

There was a blush on his cheeks as he blew a puff of breath. He was still trying to hang tight, but his limbs were limp in his deep sleep. Steve laid back down and pulled him in, feeling James unconsciously cling tighter. Whatever he was dreaming, Steve could scent how it was affecting him... _smell the slick wetting his cunt._

Considering his own dream and half hard state, it was probably a bad idea to hold James so close. But Steve had been just full of bad ideas lately, hadn't he?

It didn't take much longer for James' breathing to change in that state either. For his eyes to open, looking at Steve before taking in his surroundings. His skin was flush and it was clear, he still felt the effects of whatever he was dreaming. He blushed deeper looking at Steve, who despite everything, couldn't help the smile.

“Hey...”

“Did I do something?”

Steve couldn't help the smile getting a little bigger when he saw James blush even deeper.

“No... you were... dreaming...”

“Oh...”

James seemed a little embarrassed, but only curled himself into Steve's warmth as if to hide it, rather than pulling away. Steve pressed a kiss to his forehead, holding him closer, hearing James gasp when he felt Steve press into his thigh just slightly. Steve was embarrassed to admit it only made him harder. It had been a few more weeks since... and they'd fallen into a habit. James only seemed to want more sex, as if to distract Steve. As if to hide something else. But Steve couldn't deny him.

The moon was fast approaching once more... _but he couldn't let go..._

James leaned up to kiss him as he brought a hand down to start stroking Steve. The taste of sugar on his lips, always sweet. Steve sometimes wondered how he tolerated what must have been the permanent taste of blood and bone in his mouth. The permanent taste of _hunt_. By comparison... flowers, stone fruit, sweet and soft... _Roses... _peaches and plums, nectar and blossoms, sugar from fruit and the heavy lace of milk, cream. The undertone. The change. The stronger it got, the more Steve wanted to bury himself in it. _By comparison_... he'd expect James to be repulsed.

He never was...

Steve barely managed to pull himself away, now fully hard, scenting the sweetness of James' matched arousal. He took another breath as he felt James slide one of his legs over Steve's hip. So he could barely feel the wetness of his cunt right on the head. _All it would take was a single thrust..._

“We can't... spend the day having sex. I have to...”

He lost track of his words as he felt James take in just the tip. His hand came to grip the boy's thigh, keeping him in place as he rolled them both. To have James under him, sitting between his legs once more. He took another breath. But he couldn't help himself, slipping further in as he pulled James up so he'd be sitting in his lap. Hands gripped on his ass as those legs tightened up around his waist. James pushed himself forward for another kiss, clenching around Steve now filling him, stretching his pussy as much as it could take. His hips taking a slow movement in Steve's lap as they met with each kiss.

Steve let himself be toppled over, looking up at James, holding his hips steady as he moved them, meeting him with small jolts of his own hips. It was almost too easy to watch him be unraveled... every time. The small gasps and moans he let out. And still, there was something in him that unraveled _Steve._ Not able to stop his own breath hitching when he felt delicate fingers barely brush his abdominals. He grabbed his wrists and pulled him further in, stealing another kiss before taking a firmer hold on James' hips and ass. Helping him fuck himself down on Steve's cock.

When he felt James' movements falter, his hips stuttering as the tightened fluttering started up, Steve rolled him back over to fuck him through it. A nip at his neck as he dug into the flesh of a smooth thigh, pulling it over his hip. James was losing the grip of his legs around Steve's waist.

Steve was fine with that.

He thought it was beautiful. Could barely help himself.

There were so many qualities James shared with the Fae... so many... _too many._ He might have thought he was one. He hadn't remembered _but..._ now... he remembered too well. From the feel of his skin to the lack of body hair, the secret slit that almost seemed like a hidden prize. Curiosity and mischievous behavior. _The beauty in everything he was..._

But iron didn't seem to have any ill effects on him.

A reminder he _couldn't_ be...

“_Grant..._”

Steve came back to himself as his first orgasm shook him. Long since losing track of time or how many times James had come apart in his arms. Feeling him tremble and clench up under him. As he filled him, buried in the deepest part of him. He could feel the cum that James had released splattered on his own abdomen, still warm but already cooling. He knew they couldn't waste the day having sex... _but he wanted to_... and he was having trouble finding reasons not to.

He was still hard but he pulled out anyway. His body had been aching to _knot_ since that second time he'd fucked him. Steve had been denying himself every time, but he managed. He didn't want to hurt James. He knew he had the first time. He was satisfied with just this...

He carried James to the bathroom. The least they could do was get a shower out of the way. But James seemed to sense that his body wanted more. Not even bothering to clean himself as he made to be that much more enticing in Steve's arms. The cleft of his ass pressed against Steve's dick. When Steve made no move, he leaned forward so the man could see what was offered. He couldn't have ever hoped to deny the invitation.

He leaned over James and firmly placed a hand on his hip, slightly tugging him and keeping him in place. He used his other hand to guide himself there. That same place, still slightly swollen and agape. Used. _Claimed._ Still wet and _leaking._ He entered James slowly, watching his penis slip into that warm and welcoming body. Pausing to admire the scene once he was fully seated inside of James' pussy.

Steve could see both. Both holes, both prizes... _A reminder..._ he swallowed thickly. One plugged up, stretched tight around him in pure euphoria... But he wanted _both._ To claim him fully. In every place, to know every part of him. The hand he used to guide himself slipped a thumb along the second hole. Pink and soft, a puckered puff of skin. It stretched fairly easily. And Steve couldn't help but relish in the gasp James gave before he moved that same hand over the younger man's belly to pull him tighter against him. To push deeper into him.

The hand that had been firmly holding James' hip came to his mouth, two fingers slipping in and the boy didn't bother hesitating. Licking and sucking as Steve held him tight, thrusting into him from behind as the water fell.

They ended up wasting all the heated water.

But Steve managed to quell the feeling, the need to _knot_... if only by satisfying a _different_ urge altogether. One he regret immediately. The moment he realized what he'd done. He barely noticed when he'd started nipping on James' nape, his neck, his skin. It was something he did often, but he always stopped himself from sinking his teeth in.

This time he didn't.

This time... he didn't notice until _after_ he'd bit down on that delicate skin. Until after he could taste sweet blood on his tongue, lapping up the wound so it would close, heal and scar over. He didn't notice until he saw James looking back at him, wide eyed in surprise. Embarrassment and slight fear in his scent. The mating bite clear as day marked in his neck. On his nape. Blood missed slipping down with the water.

And Steve could only stare in his own surprise once his actions had fully registered.

_What had he done?_

_._oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like honestly... i went in with a plan, shit was supposed to happen and then just... my hands, they were like:
> 
> 'ssmmmmuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuutttttt~<3<3<3?'
> 
> and i just, y'all...
> 
> . . .
> 
> i have no idea what happened. and there was nothing i could do.
> 
> but heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy~<3<3<3 ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> also, seriously, you gais...
> 
> okay, but bitch.
> 
> like, i know i'm a needy fucker.
> 
> for real.
> 
> but.
> 
> honestly? i don't know why you gais respond the most to my bitchiest behavior. i swear. that is not how healthy relationships are built. like don't stop, continue feeding me attention cause bitch i fucking need it, i'm a whore and i have no shame, but why i gotta make threats and insults to get some damn attention over here?
> 
> i need it all the time cause BITCH, but i am *trying* to be *nice*~...
> 
> unless of course you all know that genuine niceness will harm me physically as a demon, and you give me the attention when i'm a rude disrespectful cunt because you want me to stay healthy as a demon~ in which case~<3
> 
> awww~... how sweet~<3<3<3 i'm absolutely flattered...
> 
> and disgusted, give me MOAR attention!!
> 
> and i need inspiration... TT_________________________________________TT


	8. Dust Settled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky can't bond anew.
> 
> Steve can only hope to be forgiven...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why bitch.
> 
> am i like the only one.
> 
> who is uploading.
> 
> mumma bucky.
> 
> BITCH.
> 
> seriously, what is this fuckin' nonsense? i am so fucking salty about this right now, you have no idea.
> 
> also BITCH. this chapter's like ALL plot and i still don't know what's happening. with my hands. like.
> 
> what.
> 
> the fuck.
> 
> but go ahead and read it... promise it doesn't bite~ just peaceful and boring details and easter eggs you know? the usual set up to get around~<3

_._oOo.

It wouldn't take...

It _couldn't_ take.

And still, Bucky found himself worrying. Clenching his fists near tight enough to turn his knuckles white as Grant cleaned and dressed the wound. The bite mark. _The **bond** mark._

He hadn't meant it. Bucky knew that. He was likely just acting, or rather, _reacting_ to his instincts. He'd protected Bucky... it wasn't a far stretch for the _Wolf_ to want to **_mate_ **him. He'd certainly been _mating _with him. Even so, Bucky couldn't get rid of the _different_ feelings that came with it. A strange form of _relief_ and something... _something else..._ Something he knew shouldn't be there, _couldn't_ be there.

Hydra couldn't have _undone_ him so much that he—.

_No_, it just... _Steve_ and him had formed a _Fae's Bond..._ a Handfasting when they were young... and it would have kept him from being bound to anyone else. _It was supposed to... _But then again... it was also supposed to keep him faithful... make the idea of betrayal repulsive and cause _pain_ when he denied the bond. _It was supposed to last forever... even in death. Even if—._

_Hydra had wanted to use him for so much, but they couldn't have—._

“I'm sorry...”

Bucky's breath hitched at the words... He knew Grant was, but maybe worrying for a _different_ reason than just a bond...

Steve never bit him. It would have completed their marriage in every sense, strengthened their bond. In magic. In blood. They'd performed the Fae's Ceremony, but not the Wolves'... They wanted to... but with their relationship kept a secret for so long... They never got the chance to... _There were so many things they never got the chance for..._

“_It's... okay..._”

Bucky said the words, but the immediate sigh Grant gave in response told him he knew it was a lie. He felt the tears falling before he could stop them. His mind reeling over impossible possibilities and his heart beating too quickly over what he felt.

“James...”

Bucky wiped at his tears, unable to respond for a moment. Grant's response was even softer...

“_Jamie..._”

The tears fell harder as Bucky had to catch his breath. He'd called him that a few times. Bucky was too ashamed to admit that hearing a nickname,_ a pet name_... from Grant's lips made his heart _sing_. _But how much further did he have to fall? _

_If there was _ _ **anything ** _ _of the bond left—._

“_I'm sorry—I... it's just... hurts—... t-the... it's painful..._”

An easy enough excuse. But maybe a different type of pain than what Grant could assume. He only gave pause for a moment before getting up to get something else. A salve of some kind. Smooth and soothing... it calmed Bucky down with each small mark he passed it over, enough to stop the tears and sting of the bite. Enough to ease the _pain._ The magic of it was... _familiar..._

He took another breath, wiping the last of the tears as he turned to look at Grant. The apology written on his face was enough to make Bucky feel guilty. He'd pushed him into this, his company on Grant when the man—_the Wolf—_had been without contact for what had likely been _years_.

_Play with fire, expect to be burned..._

_'There's more to this.'_

_'Yes, yes.'_

_'Not your fault.'_

_'Not his fault.'_

_'He needs you!'_

_'You need him...'_

_Le Fae, this was not the time..._ He took a glance at the small pot in Grant's hand. Small, but beautiful. Colorfully decorated ceramic with intricate gold vines laced in the design. Small gems in each flower... _roses_, and a much larger gem on the cover with the mirage of a rose inside, more gold vines spreading from the center. A simple spell of magic so it would seal perfectly and preserve what was inside. A sweetly calming fragrance. Minty, herbal... notes of honey to promote healing. Soft magic entwined with the cream.

_A Faerie's Salve..._

A real one... not like the crudely prepared version he'd managed to scrounge together when he escaped Hydra. No, this one was... _made with immense love..._ for someone who—_for someone who—._

“_H-hey! It's fine! I'm fine, Buck, it's just a scratch!”_

_But it couldn't—._

He knew his mind was playing tricks on him, but he couldn't stop himself from asking before he realized.

“_Where... where did you get that? W-what is it?_”

Grant seemed to take a breath before responding. Topping it before he did.

“I... someone I cared... deeply about... gave it to me. Supposed to help with healing... Hardly use it. Hardly ever have a reason to... I...”

Something in Bucky could see the way Grant was affected. Speaking before he could continue on that track.

“_It works... thank you..._”

It didn't seem to do much. He'd been the one to bite Bucky, and yet it was clear he was on the verge of breaking down.

“_I'm so sorry, Jamie..._”

Bucky shook his head, or tried to, to reassure him. He couldn't think of words to say, and he was at a loss watching the _shame_ consume the man he faced. His heart seized. _His chest hurt. _A man with so much _strength_, and so easily _broken._ Bucky had been his undoing. _And the longer he stayed..._

“I'll be okay...”

Grant didn't seem to believe him as he tried to hide his own tears from Bucky. Bucky made sure he knew he was forgiven by moving to sit in his lap and taking both large, rough hands in his own smaller ones, closing them over the small pot before one moved to the side of Grant's face, fingers run through his beard. Bucky made sure those blue eyes saw his own and that what he'd said was true.

He _would_ be fine. If the bond couldn't take, then it wouldn't. And if it could... _Then would being bound to this man really be so bad?_

_Would he really deny him just to hold onto faded memories of a boy long since dead?_

Every part of him _begged_ him to stay, screaming, _desperate_. Every part of him drew him closer to Grant, _yearning_ for him. And even through the man's own fears, his own worries and instincts, Grant had done nothing but _protect_ him when he could have just been rid of him from the start, thrown him to the hunters and spared himself the trouble. _When he could have just __**eaten**__ him._

_Bucky had been so caught up in his own selfishness that he hadn't stopped for a single moment to simply think and ask **why—**..._

“I'm okay...”

Grant ended up holding him close until he calmed down. While the salve did it's work. And when he finally did, he finished up covering it with soft cotton gauze and medical tape. And even then... something in him still wracked with guilt, worry, _fear... _He held Bucky close when he finished, pressing a soft kiss over the covered wound. Holding him as if he might lose him... as if he already had. Bucky wasn't sure what else to do but let him.

Eventually, Grant forced himself to pull away.

“I have to... head into town today... I... we need some supplies. Have a few things to trade...”

_'He doesn't want to leave you...'_

“I... you're leaving?”

Bucky tried not to let the near panic show but he couldn't help the sudden _overwhelming_ sensation.

“Not if... not if you don't want me to. I didn't think—... I wasn't sure you'd want me to stay after I...”

_'He needs to...'_

_'But he's worried.'_

Bucky knew that if he asked Grant to stay, he would. _If he asked..._ If he asked, Grant would continue where they'd stopped. Hold him throughout the day, wasting it away at Bucky's request. He also knew he shouldn't have this kind of hold on him. Not when he'd imposed his stay, not when Grant had only wanted to be left alone.

_'He's happy you're here.'_

_'He wants you by his side.'_

Bucky also didn't want to be alone... not right now. _Not after—..._

He held his tongue. And after a moment, Grant gave another breath but got up to go. He seemed to pause and pace for a minute, then took one of the keys from his key ring and handed it to Bucky. He recognized it. The one from the library... gorgeously matching the doors it was for. Golden, ornate, another rose design and a gem met—... at the center. Upon closer inspection, smaller ones aligning it in peculiar pattern, each with their own unique magical signature. Likely meant for the doors to not be able to unlock without them. It was designed to come apart if needed... and more magic held it together.

More Fae's artifacts... a Sanctuary key. But he hadn't felt _unwelcome_ when he...

“It's the key to the library. It's the safest room here. If anything happens...”

He looked as if he wanted to say more but refrained from speaking. He didn't need to mention Hydra. How he knew Bucky was worried. _Or that he was worried about Bucky._

Bucky closed his hand around the key, remaining silent as Grant left._ And as soon as he did—._

_._oOo.

“_Grant!_”

Admittedly, Steve didn't expect to hear from James for the rest of the day. Not after what he'd done. Not after—.

_His breath hitched when he saw him. The same cloak that... **Bucky** wore. In his dream, in his memory..._

His heart clenched as his mind flashed images before him. An overlap of the boy he loved and—. He had to turn away for a moment, force himself to calm down. He didn't know. _He didn't know._ _Steve hadn't even remembered when he'd given him that cloak._ And still, he couldn't pull away for very long, _wanting_ to see him.

James was so gorgeous... more than words could describe, more than he knew. The curls of his hair fell out of the hood just slightly, and the pure white fur of the trim highlighted the color in his hair and skin. Pale flesh, almost ethereal, but with a near constant peachy blush from the cold of winter. His hair was starting to lighten at the ends. Likely from the days he spent in gentle sun with Steve, tending the roses. His lips were a vibrant vermillion with a touch of pink, the color still managing to hold a softness to it that almost looked how they felt. And his eyes...

_Moonlit silver with an undertone like ultraviolet..._

He took another breath. The tones of magic, _the soft blues_... weren't there. _And yet..._

“I can—... _let me come with you..._”

Steve hadn't wanted to leave him alone in this place. But he hadn't suggested it either because he knew he'd already done enough. He could already feel the new bond settling into place...And he was starting to wonder if James would _ever_ be able to forgive him once he fully understood what it meant. _He was still worrying about what it might mean for the next full moon..._

“I thought you might—.”

“_I don't want to be alone..._”

It was more than that. Steve could tell. But James' eyes were still a bit red from all the tears he'd wiped away. And every part of him had hated the idea of having to leave him here alone. He gave a sigh before a nod. James pushed himself closer as Steve unlocked the shed, _remembering—._

“I—wait here.”

_Maybe not the best thing for James to see right now..._

He went in and closed the door, making sure to lock it. Even if he'd cleaned up, kept everything neat and organized, it didn't change what was there. He moved passed the knives to his other tools. Checking each of the gas canisters. It couldn't hurt to refill the empty ones, the one he'd been using was close to it but it had enough left to manage with. He opened up the garage area and set them down, making sure to close and lock it once he'd got them all. Then finally unlocking and sliding open the double doors for James to come in.

He looked surprised but quickly walked to Steve. Quiet as he saw him refilling the tank and loading up the extra empties in one of the saddlebags. The other one was already loaded with what he did have to trade. Steve paused when he finished, taking another glance at James.

“I don't really... I never got the chance to put in a passenger seat...”

He'd lost his reason to after... _after..._

“Oh...”

James' blush gave a more clear response, but Steve made quick to amend his words.

“I can... If you sit in front of me, I can make sure you're still safe. I can go slow if that worries you.”

James shook his head but he blushed deeper. Steve sat down and helped him settle in front of him, adjusting his cloak so it wouldn't get caught on anything but keep him warm. He could feel how tense James was and his reaction was almost instinctive, wrapping his arm around his waist and holding him tight. He immediately felt him relax... and Steve's mind drifted to his scent as he held him close. Always sweet...

The ride there was nothing special. Steve tended to avoid as much attention as possible, but he could immediately note the difference in how many people noticed him once he got there with James. Parked and chained the bike.

He supposed he couldn't blame them... The beauty James held was fairly difficult to ignore. And as far as towns went, this one was mixed. Sometimes they weren't. But this one was close enough to a major city for Humans and Cryptids to live together. Just maybe not as peacefully as one could hope. Steve stopped giving a damn a long time ago.

He took what he had to trade out first, handing the satchel of materials to James to carry. The gas canisters could wait for the moment. James seemed wary and kept close. Enough to end up bumping into Steve a few times, but he couldn't say he minded. Just that he was worried. Still, it was business as usual. He sold what he had to move on to the next task. Although James did seem a bit surprised by something. And then _something_ _else_ that made him cling tighter...

They were getting a few groceries when Steve felt James grab his arm.

He almost wasn't sure how to respond.

“Jamie?”

But he only shook his head and said nothing.

Steve could only sigh as he paid for what they needed. Fresh bread, some cheeses, milk, livestock meats, eggs, rice, oats, potatoes, and a variety of other vegetables. James had wanted a few more things. Flour, a variety of sugars, butter, cream, fruits, a few pastries and candies. _Even what he liked... _Steve couldn't tell him no. The saddlebags were fairly large, always enough for the necessities in one. And while the other would be occupied with gas canisters and a few other tools and materials, he also knew anything extra, James could carry in the satchel and hold it on their way back.

He organized them as best he could before locking up the saddlebag. The sweets and sugars James had wanted ended up being what went in the satchel. Steve helped him organize them so nothing would get damaged, hoping it wasn't too heavy. James insisted he was fine and it was clear he had his own strength, but Steve couldn't help but worry. The next step was filling up the canisters which was easy enough. He filled up the tank along with them. There was enough gas to get back but it would put more time between now and the next time he needed to do this.

James watched him and still stuck close by as he did. When he finished, there were still a few more things he needed from the hardware store, but he could already tell that James was getting tired. He was likely bored out of his mind but he tended to keep quiet when he was.

“James? I'm almost done here, was there anywhere you wanted to go before we left? Something you wanted to see?”

He shook his head at first, but when he started blushing, Steve raised a brow. His glance over at the Hex shop and additional blush gave him away. He'd noticed him looking in the same direction earlier, specifically when they were at that same Herbal shop and Nursery next to it. He'd also noticed James staring at the seeds and saplings but he hadn't said anything then either...

_Maybe it was time he..._

He took a breath. If he ended up back here sooner rather than later... it would be worth it. He told James to wait outside as he got what he needed. Polish and varnishes, a glossy coating resin, wood stains, nails, screws, a few door hinges. He still had wood scraps back at the mansion but he could add a few to the order. Mainly, he needed locks, both for replacing the ones he couldn't repair and extras to have when new ones broke. He remembered the measurements perfectly in his mind but it would be easiest to order larger pieces and cut them down to size himself. There wasn't a lot he couldn't remember. Ironic how the one thing he cared to was the one thing that faded...

Almost too _perfectly_ selective.

“Sir?”

He looked up before finishing up writing down the order. Glass panes. The framework should have still been intact, but if he needed to repair it, they wouldn't be able to provide what he needed. He ended up spending much more than he made but that was never really a problem for him. Some of the townspeople still seemed stunned when he paid them with Celtic gold though. When he finished up, he loaded in what he bought with the filled canisters and locked up the saddlebag.

He also noticed James still looking at the shop. James pulled down his hood and Steve could see the covered bite just under his hair... it reminded him of something _else..._

He'd already needed to talk to her, but this was more important...

“James...”

Bucky turned around to see Grant before putting the hood back up. He couldn't help blushing as the man crossed his arms and raised a brow. He supposed it was obvious by now and he couldn't stop the sigh either. Grant just gave a soft if slightly sad smile before walking over. But something in Bucky had him pull away when he reached out. And he wasn't sure why... it wasn't what he intended to do.

It felt _unnatural._

But Grant only seemed surprised before giving a nod.

“I have... one more thing to do, someone to talk to. You're welcome to come in if you change your mind. I may be a minute.”

Bucky could only give a nod, but something was _wrong_, he could sense it, he could—.

He watched Grant enter the store, heard the little chime of the bell. Minutes passed but they stretched on. _Too long._ He felt _locked. __**Trapped**__. Something was—._ _**Someone**__ had a hold on him. He knew this feeling. He knew this magic. Unraveling it would be_—.

_He only noticed them when they were close enough to recognize._

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huh... i wonder what steeb's building~...
> 
> anything else?
> 
> nuooo, i don't think so~<3<3<3
> 
> ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))


	9. Scarlet Sprite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because of them, Bucky learns something new...
> 
> Because of them, Steve doesn't make a terrible mistake...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gais~...
> 
> so guess which bitch has been having WAY too much fun with mistress google translate~, oh she's so much more lovely than i remember<3
> 
> for a ridiculous and monotone robotically inconsistent podfic of any of my stories, just copy and paste (no more than 5000 characters at a time), any part of my typed up garbage into the first part of google translate (second part doesn't matter, but you can always have fun with that too), and press the little sound button to have the bitch read it to you
> 
> it's extremely juvenile, but i have been dying of laughter hearing that voice read my shit, like
> 
> ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> i can't, it's fucking amazing~<3<3<3
> 
> also, heads up for some badly translated russian, as always, thanks to the lovely mistress google~<3

.oOo.

_Bucky closed his eyes._

_He knew what this was, what was to come. **She** was dissatisfied with his escape. He'd known. Somewhere in his mind, he'd known all along. Had recognized her magic... But he hadn't wanted to believe it. He'd never thought she'd... And this time..._

_He waited. Waited for those unwelcome hands to grab him. Time stretching on. _Slowed...

_**Slowed**_...

He opened his eyes and saw glowing red—_no?_

_Scarlet... a scarlet sprite._

Not his own. And in the same instance, he saw it suppressing the magic that was keeping him and—. _Aid. Offering aid. It was slowing time around him. Immensely powerful. _He reached out, feeling the lent magic run through him. Welcoming him. He used it to break free of the hold. Running the moment he could move. Into the shop. Into _Grant's_ arms. Into _safety. __Into—._

.oOo.

“_Natasha_—.”

The chime was sudden. Abruptly interrupting their conversation. Steve had felt an odd buzz through the bond, but it had been numb. Enough to simply make him think James hadn't wanted his company.

_ Now_, a sudden break. As a heavy weight of distress pushed through and he turned around to see him. _A glow of red... scarlet, running through him._ Magic. _Fae's magic_ but... no, he recognized it. Wanda's magic but that wasn't—.

He barely had time to think as James ran to him. Barely enough time to catch him as he fell. As whatever spell had been dispersed along with the magic, a burst coming from James in a wave of light as he lost consciousness. All Steve could focus on was the stress suddenly raking the bond. He'd been in danger. _He'd been fidgety the entire time._

And Steve had left him alone. _For far too long._

He couldn't stop the rage from boiling his blood, running through him. His instincts _screaming_ at him for not protecting his **mate**. The _Wolf_ more than ready to take control. The moment James was safely held by Natasha and Wanda, he left the confines of the shop.

_The threat that plagued his **mate** was begging to be **eliminated**._

He barely had it in himself to stop as he caught the first one. Eyes glowing golden. Fangs growing sharper, every muscle convulsing near painful as they prepared to change, to _expand_, fur ready to grow in and his bones _aching_. His claws already well wrapped around one of the assailant's throats. _Ready to rip it out or crush it._ He only heard himself growling and the slight tears in his clothes before—.

_'**Steve!** '_

_'_Steve..._'_

The voices of both Witches in his mind and the sudden influence of their magic had him calming and _registering_ his surroundings. If _barely_ enough to stop him...

A crowd of people. Gathered. Human and Cryptid alike. About to witness him **devour** what they would understand as _one of their own_.

As an unprovoked attack.

With the ice as thin as it already was, Humanity didn't need any more reasons. _Hydra didn't need any more reasons._ Not many of the townspeople had known what he was. Just that he preferred to be alone and was sitting on a hefty inheritance he hardly used. That is, beyond fixing and managing that old castle on the mountain he lived in... _Who_ the manor belonged to had been lost with time. Just as Steve had lost himself for a time...

Now, staring back at all those lingering eyes and hearing their whispers..._ Feeling their fear..._

Everyone knew Wolves were _dangerous_. **Lycans** were **dangerous**. Unashamed of the fact that everyone around them was _prey_. They tended to make it known. The one known Wolf that frequently visited the town only came around, unbeknownst to them, at Steve's request. Typically to deal with young, up and coming troublesome pups that Steve didn't want to hurt. And people knew well enough to steer clear of that Wolf on his _best_ days. The town'd had more than its fair share of _unsavory_ encounters with them. More than enough reason to **hate** them. After all, they never knew, but Steve's lineage tended to attract Wolves in search of a pack.

And now... here he was, about to transform for them. Have them _witness_ exactly what made them so wary of the Wolves to begin with. Give them a reason to **fear** him. _Have them know just how dangerous he was._

He heard the man gasp as his grip barely loosened. Then dropped him. Hearing him cough and gasp for breath. He forced himself to pull away but he knew the damage was done.

Now they would all know. Even if he hadn't transformed in full...

_They could guess._

He'd given them all they'd need. He had to take a breath. And he was back inside the shop, away from prying eyes before he realized it. Barely able to calm his breath on the verge of panic. His body fighting him, instincts urging him to **protect** when he couldn't,_ not like this,_ not—. Natasha quickly locked the door as soon as he'd stepped in and was there to comfort him. They'd taken James to the back... but even when Steve was finally next to him, it took time for him to calm down. He knew James was safe here, would be safe.

And even then, his instincts were still _irate_ with him for having _let **them** go_. The magic barely helped, but luck would have it, his body had gained some form of immunity to that too... it was only knowing that James was **here**, that kept him in place.

“What did they do to him...?”

“I'm not so sure it was just them that did this...”

Steve glanced over at Natasha, about to speak up before Wanda clarified.

“She's right... I sensed a powerful spell holding him down just outside, but I could also sense the intentions of those men. He should be fine, but he fainted because of the immense amounts of magic he had to process to break that spell. In all honesty, I only expected him to be able to reach through the bond to you, but he's even healing just fine...”

“You still sound concerned...”

“Because from what I could tell, from what I sensed on the other end... what he did should have been _impossible_. He didn't just break the spell, he countered the safeguards the caster put in place. All while borrowing my magic because his own is—... well...”

“Is that why he was...”

“The scarlet glow... Yes... but his own magic is... it's like it's sealed away but there's also something _strange_ I—... I don't know how to describe it.”

“Like it's been altered...”

_Or corrupted..._

She didn't say, but Wanda heard her. She looked up at Natasha with something of sadness in her eyes but nodded.

“Wait... I don't understand, he's—.”

“One of the Fae, Steve... like me. But pure...”

“But that's...”

Steve stayed quiet a moment. Among other things, he'd noted the signs, but he assumed that if James had _any_ Fae's blood, it was diluted enough that only the barest minimum of traits had passed on to him. James hadn't used any magic around him and he was wary of iron but otherwise unaffected...

_He was immune._

_“... They cut me open...”_

_They experimented on him..._

_“I just need one night...”_

_The full moon can replenish the magic of the Fae. The Wolf had—._

_“He protected me...”_

Steve closed his eyes, taking another breath.

“Someone's trying to hurt him. Who?”

“... I'm sorry, Steve... the caster cut me off when I tried to trace the signature. And by then... even I was overwhelmed by what he managed to do. When I lent him my sprite, I hadn't imagined he'd—.”

“I thought the Fae couldn't share magic like that.”

“A very selective few... can. It's relative to... specific bloodlines... And if you remember... I'm not pure Faerie...”

He took another breath but gave a nod as he saw her passing over faint magic to continue checking him over. He almost held his breath as he saw her near pause over the covered bite mark. Steve knew that when it came to Cryptids, turning wasn't so easy. No other species was quite as _malleable_ as Humankind. But he hardly knew what the serum did to his bite. He couldn't be sure.

“Are you sure he'll be okay...?”

She gave a nod.

“He's exhausted himself, but from what I can tell, he should be fine... everything aside... his abilities are remarkable...”

“What about...?”

He cut himself off, but it was clear Natasha had already picked up on his worries.

“Is this the one...?”

Steve could only nod.

Natasha took a breath, but moved closer to use her own magic. Slowly checking for any trace of Lycan in him. She moved to check the bite, careful with the tape to look over the marks. Healing, scarring in a perfect mark on his flesh. A perfect claim... It was then that Wanda noticed what it was, glancing over at Steve who looked just as guilty as he was concerned. They used their magic entwined, hand in hand to check more thoroughly. They were finding traces, of Steve's venom, blood, _serum_... but not in any way that would suggest the young man would change in light of Lycanthropy. Natasha's brows furrowed.

Steve's serum... was something that deeply rooted itself in his very DNA, while it made his venom _far_ more potent than the average Wolf, she knew it wasn't actually present in the venom itself.

“Have you given him your blood at any point?”

Steve seemed alarmed by the question for a moment before seeming to realize something else. He blushed slightly and coughed but shook his head and gave a quick answer.

“No.”

It said enough. Her hand with Wanda's drifted lower, towards his abdomen, and she got her answer. Enough of an answer anyway. Wanda looked at her in surprise about to say something before Natasha cut her off.

“He'll be fine, Steve...”

_They both would..._

Wanda looked at her, worried.

_'“Natalia?”'_

_'“It's possible he doesn't know, and if neither knows, it's not our place to interfere. Steve didn't know he was a Faerie... The baby's healthy, and he'll be okay. That's all that matters right now...”'_

She seemed unsure a moment, but gave a nod.

_'“Okay.”'_

Steve seemed to calm down if a bit more and gave a nod. He looked confused from Wanda's reaction and seemed to note that there was an understanding between the two Witches, maybe a private mental conversation, but didn't pry. He knew now that James wouldn't be afflicted by the moon in the same way, and that was one less thing to worry about... Knowing he was one of the Fae... the blessing the moon gave them... _taking that away from him..._ Steve could never forgive himself for that, let alone expect James to. _But the bite..._

“What about...”

“It's... healing. But the mark is...”

_Staying..._

Steve could have known that without asking. But some part of him had been hoping it had just been his mind playing tricks on him. Wanda looked at Natasha and then spoke up if to distract him a bit.

“I can give him something to help soften the effects of the venom... It already seems like he may have something to aid his healing, but this might help settle the bond more gently...”

Steve looked at her and sighed but gave a nod. She got up and returned with her own salve, specially made in a small ruby red pot. He heard James fidget and take a breath before his breathing seemed to calm down a bit more. Steve could only breathe as he felt his instincts still buzzing with _dissatisfaction_ from leaving those men **alive** outside... But he couldn't make a show and leave a bloodbath in wake for the town to clean up. So he focused his attentions on James. _On each breath..._

_All that was left was the wait._

.oOo.

Bucky opened his eyes slowly. His consciousness drifting in. He could see his surroundings. Hear the tick of a clock. Feel the magic around him... closing his eyes again.

He felt fine... good, even, considering the spell that had been cast on him. And—.

He opened his eyes. Realizing his head was in someone's lap. A woman. A beautiful woman. Bright red, perfectly curled hair and piercing, pale blue eyes unique to her bloodline stared back at him in worry. His breath hitched.

“_N-Natalia...?_”

And the next he saw, her eyes widened before the shine of water seemed to overtake them, and he felt a drop on his forehead. Her hand came to her mouth a moment before she closed her eyes trying to stop the tears and nodded.

“_Да... да, это я..._”

(_Yes... yes, it is me..._)

“_Мне очень жаль... Я не смог спасти тебя тогда—._”

(_I am so sorry... I could not save you then—._)

“_Нет! Нет... ты сделал достаточно тогда, я обещаю тебе... Ты сделал более чем достаточно для всех нас..._”

(_No! No... you did enough then, I promise you... You did more than enough for all of us..._)

He took a breath, giving a soft hum as he closed his eyes again... She'd grown so much..._ so much_ from the little girl he'd known. _A girl so desperate not to hurt anyone, she'd pulled her own fangs from her mouth..._ It took him a moment to remember where he was, or rather... where he'd been. Opening his eyes as he sat up.

“Что произошло...?”

(_What happened...?_)

She took a breath to calm herself but spoke.

“Ты упала в обморок, твоя магия... даже с помощью Ванды, она измотала тебя. Твой приятель... он волнуется. Ему потребовалось все, чтобы не убивать этих людей... но он знает... он знает, что это сделает с городом...”

(_You fainted, your magic... even with Wanda's help, it exhausted you. Your mate... he is worried. It took everything in him not to kill those men... but he knows... he knows what that would do to the town..._)

_Приятель..._

_**Mate**_...

It was then he noticed the other woman. And he could feel her magic. A Faerie, like himself. And young, but _incredibly_ strong, but she was also... _different_. Her hair was dark, long. A cool chocolate color near black, toned with a deep, much warmer auburn, the scarlet of her magic shining through... Her eyes held a metallic gleam that Bucky could swear he'd seen before. A pretty shade of green that he could see flecks of scarlet magic in. She lent him her magic. Without knowing who he was or what was on the other side, she'd...

She smiled at him. And it was then he heard the hitched breath. Turning to see Grant and not able to hold in his blush or _relief_.

And he could see just how relieved the man was in turn. But just as hesitant. Bucky went to him before he could make the decision to pull away and he was quick to catch on. Holding Bucky tightly and lightly scenting him in ways he likely hoped Bucky wouldn't notice. Bucky could only hold on tighter. Grant had been a blessing from the moment they'd met... just like... just like—.

“Steve...”

Bucky turned to look at Natalia as... as _Steve_... nodded before going to speak with her privately. It was clear they had been discussing what had happened while Bucky was unconscious. And he... _Grant had seen him using magic._

Steve took a glance back at James. He looked worried. But he'd come in with... two favors to ask Natasha. One she couldn't help him with... And one that had managed to rear its ugly head just shy of creating a bigger problem. She was calm, collected, but she glanced over at Wanda and he could already tell that she had her suspicions.

“You know who those men were...”

It wasn't a question. Steve clenched his jaw. But after a moment, took the broken ring from his pocket and handed it to her. And even without the words, he could see the look on her face. Neutral. Careful, like she didn't want to alarm Wanda. But it was clear she understood _perfectly_. And he could see the barely veiled anger in her eyes as her hand closed around that ring.

“Can you trace it?”

“We're going to stop them, Steve...”

He had no doubts of that. He and James left shortly after, with waves goodbye from the two Witches. Wanda's smile faltered as they were gone. And Natasha could guess why as they went indoors, closing up shop after the incident that took place.

“They're going to be okay...”

“It's more than that Natalia... his magic, it was... it felt like someone had tried to _take_ it from him. But from what I could sense... I... I've never felt _power_ like that before... and—...”

She cut herself off.

“It wasn't just him, was it...”

“Was it really wise to not... to not tell Steve about...”

“When you checked the bond, it was settling too fast, wasn't it? For a bite no more than a few hours old...”

Wanda's eyes widened.

“I—yes. _Yes_, it was. For a bite to settle that quickly, there would already have to be a bond in place, but that... it would at least have to be—.”

“A bond renewal. Or completion...”

“_Yes!_ But—... _Natalia_...”

Steve used to have a mate. They both knew the story. Those closest to him had at least heard it in some form. If not from Steve, then from his former pack. Natasha had known Steve for a very long time. She'd heard it from him. She'd watched him fall apart losing the memories of his mate. She'd tried to help him...

“There was a time when... Steve lost every part of himself... He didn't remember who he was. What he was. Who he knew, who he loved. That he was a King, his childhood... nothing... it was my fault... He came to me for help when he started losing the memories of the person he loved. I failed him... but it's only now, I'm beginning to realize exactly why that was...”

_A simple spell would never have had that kind of backlash if there hadn't been interference to begin with._

“I thought it was strange... from what I knew, Steve's serum was supposed to give _eidetic_ memory. I went to Logan for advice, information on what I would be looking for. I was overwhelmed. And the tracks were covered far too well for someone with... magic like mine... to notice. I was foolish to think I could help. And I was foolish to not notice something was amiss from the start.”

Steve had been bonded to a Faerie. And even in death, those bonds were nearly _unbreakable_. It would be something strong enough to make him _incompatible_ with _any_ other person. Betraying it would be painful, and attempting to break it... could potentially kill him if not the other person involved, and especially if not done with extreme precaution. But time was something he and many other Cryptids had far too much of... that is, if he had ever _wanted_ to break the bond... _But if his mate was still alive..._

She'd been naive to ever trust her... and now... _She knew that far too well..._

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))


	10. Blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky blames himself for drawing his savior into his troubles.
> 
> Steve blames himself for not ensuring Hydra's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh, the holiday season, how ill you make me... you're finally over...
> 
> not really, i'm just lazy shit~<3
> 
> new years is so much better~... mmmmmmmmm alcohol... ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy~ gais~<3<3<3
> 
> guess who got the loveliest little gift from a dear writer who fed my needy bitch ass and just deserves all the praise and love right now?
> 
> ['Plus One' by 'its_me_smol_steve'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21958216)
> 
> mmm... isn't it just sweet?
> 
> did you read it?
> 
> read it...
> 
> REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.
> 
> READ IT.
> 
> read it...
> 
> do it now before you read this chapter...
> 
> and then love it.
> 
> LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT...
> 
> LOVE IT.
> 
> love it...
> 
> spam the kudos button and say, yes author, you're the best, i would love a part 2 cause i'm a greedy bitch like that with an insatiable appetite for mumma bucky...
> 
> love the author~<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
> 
> y'all know i do! go fuckin' do it, then come back and feed me attention because i'm still a needy whore and i need inspiration.
> 
> ALSO... i have to say, i'm QUITE proud of the onions in this chapter~. they just started and you know... had their little intermissions but they... couldn't stop~ and i just rolled with it. I was VERY~ happy with my hands...
> 
> ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

.oOo.

Silence.

It was haunting them... On the ride back. By the time they'd taken everything inside and put it all away. By the time... _Steve..._ had started the fire and dinner was set in the oven. Bucky had cooked this time, if only because the other man had been distracted with so much else to do. But they still didn't speak.

And it wasn't for lack of subjects to broach...

But rather, _where to begin..._

Grant was the first to speak up.

“You knew Natasha...”

Maybe the lightest subject he could bring up... And still, Bucky wasn't sure how to respond, sitting backward in a chair, staring at the fire. Away from the man. Hearing the sprites whisper to him... encourage him. For Natalia... he didn't have anything to give other than the truth.

“When she was young... Does she have a Coven now?”

“You already know that answer...”

He did. Too well. There wasn't a single Coven that would accept her. _Not with __**tainted**__ magic..._

“She has someone...”

“She does.”

That was good. The other Faerie, something about her had been familiar though he couldn't quite place it, but she seemed to be good. More than that... despite the difference in her magic, the chaotic nature he'd found in her sprites... _it was pure..._

“She used to pull her own teeth out.”

“She doesn't anymore...”

He wanted to cry hearing that. There were so many times he'd begged her to stop. Had found that little girl, crying, her mouth bloody and fangs pulled... Witches were...

Nature had many creatures. Servants. Guardians. Those that would Preserve it. Protectors. Peacekeepers. But there were many different sides to _Nature... _There were also those meant to Break it. Chaosmakers. Sowing and reaping havoc. Destroyers. Parasites in wake.

But everything... in _balance_.

Witches... had always held so much pride for upholding the laws of Nature... adhering to their place, following tradition. And they did not take kindly to any Cryptids that were prone to breaking them. Less so, amongst their own.

Natalia had been born in a delicate category to begin with. Her own instincts pitted against her, a contradictory nature. And a _chance_ taken from her, before she'd even taken that first breath of life...

He took a shuddered breath, closing his eyes, remembering...

_Abandoned little girls, all with **t—**... magic that **H—**..._

He cut the thoughts short.

“That's good...”

He heard a breath taken and could tell that Grant knew how he was being affected by this. He almost didn't expect him to speak...

“She's much older than she looks...”

Bucky didn't respond. But he understood the implication. _The lie he'd been caught in. _He heard soft steps before glancing over his shoulder, turning to look up at Grant. His expression was soft. Not like he was angry, but then... he wouldn't be. Not exactly. Bucky ended up staring for a moment before blushing and looking back at the fire.

“Jamie...”

He wanted to lean into the hand that came to his hair, gently moving it to the side, falling along his cheek, then his neck as if he wanted to check the bite... The heat on Bucky's cheeks was expected at this point, but he could still hide the pout and change the subject, as childish as it would seem, his voice muffled through his arms where they were resting on the chair.

“_She called you Steve..._”

He heard a sigh before the man squatted down to be more at his level. Bucky couldn't evade those eyes for long. He could hardly ever resist looking at them. The familiar _honesty_ so much different from his own...

“She did... tell you the truth, I never expected you to stay here beyond the first night. Out here, I... I didn't think you'd survive it. I'm still scared something's gonna... take you from me... Used to bein' alone at this point. Grant's still my name, just... not my first name. Haven't given that to anyone in a long while... she met me when I still did... but I'm not that same person anymore.”

Bucky straightened himself looking at him before speaking more clearly.

“And now...?”

He didn't answer for a moment, looking back at Bucky. He looked as if he was about to before they both heard the beep of the oven and Bucky got up to go get the food. He wasn't expecting to be crowded from behind and helped, but Grant... _Steve_... did so in silence. And they ate together in that same silence. Bucky had made a casserole with well seasoned potatoes and peas in a light, creamy sauce under a thick, flakey crust. Bucky learned quickly that Grant was partial to parsley, and it seemed his own tastes were changing too... There were heavy chunks of beef for Grant and much smaller pieces with more vegetables on his own end. A bit red in the center of each piece for the Wolf... Faeries were never particularly fond of meat, but the other man seemed to note this fairly quickly into Bucky's stay. _But now..._

It wasn't until they finished cleaning the dishes and went back to the fire, about to say their goodnights, that he spoke up again. Stopping Bucky from leaving, likely expecting him to want the solitude after everything that had happened, and holding him close.

“I don't know... who I'm supposed to be...”

_'Someone stole it from him...'_

The words near broke Bucky as he turned around to see him. Those same eyes that showed so much _fear _on a man who should have _nothing_ to fear, a man who'd been broken down enough times to lose himself... _after losing **everything** he loved..._

He pulled him down for a kiss, barely able to stop the tears, feeling the immediate compliance and equal fervor from the man. Barely able to get in the whisper and having to cut himself short.

“_You don't hafta be anything..._”

Grant looked at him with a sorrow far too familiar before the kisses continued. Couldn't stop. As he was pulled closer and held tighter, kiss after kiss getting deeper. The taste of blood ever present in his mouth. A taste that to any other Faerie might be offputting. But to _Bucky_... They'd dragged each other down on that carpet, by the fire. Tugged on each other's clothes as it was pulled away, their bodies free of it and lit by the warmth of the flame. As he was pushing inside of Bucky once more, roughly chasing the same needs and wants they could never seem to sate.

Every kiss, every touch, every shudder, every moan... it all only seemed to be a reminder of what he'd—.

“_Jamie?_”

Bucky couldn't stop his own tears or the alarm on the other man's face, suddenly worried he might be hurting Bucky, but he could urge him further. Pulling him in for another kiss as he tried to stop them. His legs taking a vice grip, clinging to him desperately with each thrust. Just as hungry as the Wolf might be. As his tears fell. As he tried to figure out what they meant before deciding he didn't want that pain, as he tried to push the thoughts and feelings away, drown them in what this man gave him.

And it wasn't very difficult. He lost his breath so easily, barely able to keep up with him. But it was more than expected between a Faerie and a Lycan. He welcomed it even. But Grant seemed to tone it down to let Bucky calm down, tracing soft symbols on his back. Just on his shoulder blades... _where his wings would—..._

Bucky could feel him still half hard, pressed up close enough to Bucky's slit caught between his legs. Still wanting more even if he'd stopped himself, given Bucky a break. He never knotted Bucky, despite the telltale signs of wanting to... always holding back for his sake. Always so considerate...

He gave a whisper likely not meant for Bucky to hear. Likely meant more for himself and every other question he had. Every other lie Bucky had told him.

“_How long did I let them hurt you...?_”

_Always so considerate..._

Bucky's breath hitched before he looked over his shoulder with guilt and worry. Before he pulled himself away so he could turn around to face him. The words spilling before he could stop them.

“Don't—... you don't _get_ to take the blame. _That's not fair._ I—_I_ came to _**your**_ home and imposed myself here. I distract you and misbehave and you treat me like your guest. Like something _precious_ you can't let go of. You don't know what they did to me or what they **made** me do and _you're __**not**__ responsible._ I **lied** to you. You trusted me when I didn't deserve it. When I _still __**don't**_. When I only cared about myself and selfishly—..._ selfishly... dragged you into this without a second thought... You don't owe me anything and yet you... you—..._”

His words broke down with more tears. And he felt the other man only wipe them away and pull him closer. Kissing his forehead and letting him cry and calm down. Giving that same gentleness Bucky _knew_ he didn't deserve... The same kind whispers...

“_You are precious, Jamie... you've given me far more than I could have ever hoped to deserve, to have—... in my life. All you did was maintain caution. You didn't know me, didn't know what I would do or what you could confide in me. And even then, you offered yourself to me. Not because you wanted to... but because the alternative was worse. I took advantage of that. I let you stay, all while putting your life at risk. Because __**I**__ wanted to keep you... I'm guilty of far more than you could know. I may not be able to control Hydra or what they've done... but you aren't the only person I've failed... Because I failed to __**stop **__them... they were able to hurt you... _And that is my fault...”

Bucky pulled back so Grant could see him and shook his head. Barely managing to pull himself together or stop his tears.

“_It's not—, it's...”_

Bucky couldn't find the words. Couldn't force them out. The fact that Hydra had _help_. Staring back at Steve through the blur of watery eyes, he could see clearly enough the guilt on his face. The guilt didn't leave. It never left. Bucky wanted to reassure him. This wasn't his responsibility, he _couldn't_ have known. But he was only able to shake his head again before burying himself in Grant's arms, as the tears just kept falling and the man held him all throughout.

It felt like all those years... _everything_ that had happened... just rushing out at once. He wasn't used to it. But the _patience_ Grant gave him...

He waited for Bucky's breaths to calm down, for the crying to stop. Bucky still hanging onto him, onto the comfort and warmth he provided, feeling Grant's fingers run softly through his hair. It might have been enough to lull him to sleep in those arms... but something in him just couldn't at this point in time. Looking back at him and seeing the same gentle if sad smile. He knew his eyes were red from crying, he could only imagine how he looked. Sighing as he wiped at his eyes again.

Grant was still looking at him though. Maybe he didn't mean to, but it was making Bucky a bit nervous...

“... What? Is there something—...”

He seemed to blush as if he hadn't noticed himself staring. Bucky had never really bothered asking before and Grant had always looked away when Bucky looked back at him. But then, they were never in each other's arms in those moments.

“N-no. Just... it's nothing... I...”

Bucky could only give a worried look back, wondering what he was thinking. He seemed a bit embarrassed before sighing and conceding to telling him.

“... You're... _beautiful_...”

He was near breathless when he said it, and Bucky couldn't help his cheeks growing hot at the words.

“_I—surely, you can't mean that... not—... not right now. I've been crying so much, I—._”

“You're always beautiful, James... it's a bit... intimidating...”

“_Oh..._”

“But not in a—! I...”

Bucky shook his head and pushed himself closer, he knew what was meant, he just felt the fears were unfounded. Moreover, he didn't deserve to be called that... Grant only seemed more worried though, like his thoughts had taken a turn towards something painful. Bucky almost couldn't get the words out but they found themselves.

“What are you thinking of...?”

He took a long moment to answer. As if trying to find the words... His hand came over Bucky's shoulder blades in feather light touches. Hesitant.

“Wanda told me... You're one of the Fae...”

He was worrying. If he knew _anything _of Hydra, he knew that they liked to tear apart any Cryptid they got their hands on... Bucky gave a hesitant nod back. It was something he'd maybe kept from him for too long and... he'd seen Bucky use magic... He'd even dealt with Hydra _for_ Bucky. It wasn't _quite_ the same as what Grant was... the man still had his own fears. During the full moon, the day before, the day after... he seemed so nervous. No, that was something he would have to trust Bucky with on his own. But something in him just seemed to grow more worried at the fact. His fingers still over Bucky's shoulderblades. He couldn't seem to get the words out and Bucky could see him struggling, read the question without the words spoken... He answered it to stop him.

“_I was lucky..._”

He let out a shuddered breath before holding Bucky tighter. He seemed unsure of whether or not to be relieved.

It wasn't the truth. But it wasn't a lie, either.

If Faeries get their wings ripped away... they aren't supposed to grow back... Bucky had lost track of how many times it had happened... But then... he'd lost track of so much under Hydra... _He __**was**__ lucky that his wings managed to grow back..._

After a while, he managed to speak again.

“You've gained a bit of weight.”

_Bastard!_

Bucky almost pushed himself away from him, suddenly struggling and very close to kicking him. But the man just laughed and held him tighter. When he finally managed to get him to calm down, running his hand over Bucky's side.

“I guess it makes sense...”

When Bucky looked up a bit confused—.

“Why you're so pretty... and don't worry, the weight's a good thing... you're healthier now.”

“_Gra—._”

He had gained weight, but he hadn't thought it would be noticed. The Fae don't need much food at all, but Hydra had always given him the bare minimum of the most basic nutrition. Another realization crossed him then. But he couldn't help blushing at the words. It was a change of subject no doubt to lighten the mood. And he couldn't help feeling a little ashamed of the way his heart fluttered, and how easily it worked. Burying himself in the man's chest, words muffled against him.

“_You're a punk..._”

But he no doubt heard them well enough by the way he started laughing. And something in Bucky couldn't help pulling back to look at him, cherish the rare warmth of it and push himself up to kiss him. He'd needed an escape... he ended up with a savior. But he also hadn't asked the man...

“What... what do you want me to call you?”

He seemed surprised before giving the same gentle smile to Bucky but it faded.

“Might be best left to you...”

“But—.”

“I trust you...”

Bucky couldn't help blushing at the words and he kissed him again, unable to stop himself from getting lost in it. As his leg hooked over the man's hip and he slipped in again just as easily. Quiet moans and kisses taking up time as the fire burned and dimmed down. There was still so much left to question. He hadn't pushed for answers _nearly_ as much as Bucky had been expecting. Even as the warmth of the fire and comfort of each other lulled them closer to sleep. As he saw the Wolf look back at him with soft eyes, his own just as tired, unable to hold the lids open for much longer. But...

_Bucky still had so many more..._

.oOo.

He woke up in the night and almost didn't make it to the nearest bathroom. He was thankful for the generous amount in the estate. Not quite so much for the way his stomach felt. He hadn't been able to keep much down. Barely managing to hide it, or cast the spell whenever the feeling woke him up.

The Lycan still sleeping because of it.

He rinsed his mouth and walked back over. They'd fallen asleep on the floor together after the last tryst. Or rather, he had, almost immediately and he wondered a bit how long it took the other to follow. The fire had gone out long ago, likely put out just after he'd fallen asleep, but he'd been wrapped in the warmth of those arms.

It was another lie, another something withheld from him... but Bucky didn't want him worrying more than he already did. It was a subtle spell anyway, simply to keep him at peace without being disturbed by Bucky. And he couldn't help smiling looking back at him... He knew it would be another while before he could sleep now that he was awake. He also knew he should be worried about his current state... but it was something he'd worry about later. Hoping it was just a delayed reaction to getting used to regular and rich food again... maybe he just needed sugar, as the Fae tend to...

He hadn't thrown up the first month, and now it was consistent. He took a breath and he couldn't help watching him... his features finally calm and peaceful. He'd said so much of Bucky's beauty, but hadn't considered his own...

_You must think yourself a **beast**..._

He couldn't help reaching back to touch the bite.

There was already something that had bound him to this man... a reason to stay.

_The Fae are honor bound to repay their debts..._

But he knew well enough that it went _far_ beyond simple debt. And now the bite... _the bond... _He needed to know _why_. Why he'd been drawn to him, to this place. Why _every_ secret seemed to grate at him _like he should already know the answers_. Why he couldn't pull away from him no matter how much he wanted to—... _no matter how much he thought he should... Why he __**didn't**__ want to..._

_Why everything seemed so **familiar**..._

He thought for a moment, getting up and walking to the door, pausing to look back at him...

He knew some things were simply Fae's curiosity. But this went far beyond that._ It always had..._

He _needed _to know. And his legs took him to his destination before he realized exactly where that was. Staring at the small ceramic pot of a Faerie's Salve...

He hesitated for a moment but reached his hand out. Opening the pot... he let his magic flow through it, trying to find any difference in—.

“_I could do this all day...”_

“_Just some neighborhood bullies, it's not that big a deal.”_

“_Buck, I'm okay. Wolves heal fast anyway, right?”_

“_I made sure the kid got away... Buck—hey—!”_

“_I'll always be okay... I got you to take care a me, don't I?”_

_No... **No, it wasn't—**._

“_Hey... stop worryin' so much, I'm stronger now—.”_

“_Strong enough to not need me anymore...”_

_It was said as a whisper but he'd heard it. Bucky hadn't meant him too, but he should have figured he would. Even before, his senses were sharp. And he wasn't just a normal Wolf anymore. Steve looked over at him, dressed in uniform, the shield on his back. Strong and much taller than he'd been. Everything a King of Wolves should be... His hair messy but his face clean, and those clear blue eyes looking right through Bucky. The pain in them drowning him in guilt._

_The hard steps of boots followed, and the next Bucky knew, lips were hard on his as Steve had pulled him in for a kiss. Near crushingly tight, desperate like he thought Bucky might disappear in that very moment. Not stopping until his knees were weak and the dizziness near made him fall._

“_Don't you _**ever**_ say that... I need you now more than ever... I could have all the strength in the world, but I'd still be weak without you by my side... I wouldn't have gotten this far without you... and who's gonna put that stuff in my wounds when I'm stupid enough to get into fights I can't win?”_

Bucky remembered laughing and crying. Telling Steve that it was called a Faerie's Salve.

The tears were falling before he could think. And he barely managed to catch the pot in time to keep it from breaking. A hand coming over his mouth as the tears kept falling. The whispers of the sprites pushing through as he tried to shut them out. His hand shaking as he managed to put it back on the shelf. Breathing as it stayed still, safe.

_And their voices flooding in._

_'It's him!'_

_'He lost you...'_

_'But he loves you!'_

_'He still does!'_

_'He never stopped...'_

_'It's—.'_

“_**Stop it!**_"

_**No. **It wasn't true. It **couldn't** be. I-if it were really him, if it were **really him—**. It was the bond. Messing with his head. This **stupid bite **that the Wolf had given him. Twisting his memories, distorting them to see what he _**wanted**_ to be true. Steve was—_... the Stevie he knew was dead... Nothing would bring him back. Whatever Hydra had done had weakened his bond enough to make a new one, and a strong Wolf like _Grant_ would have no troubles making a new one.

_He needed to stop this. Cut it off at the source._

He reached back to the bite, running his magic through it to undo what had been done in his blood. It would be painful but he could bear with it. _He'd dealt with worse. _And—.

_Flashes. A different pain forcing him to stop. Betrayal of a Fae's Bond in place. Everything pouring in. Images overlapping. The bearded, weary man he'd met in these mountains. The thin young man he'd always loved. The strong, heroic Wolf King he'd known. Captain America... The same eyes. The same smile. The same—._

_ **The same castle. The same salve. The same Sanctuary. His own magic.** _

“_Because it used to belong to someone else... someone I—... I can't remember...”_

“_I... someone I cared... deeply about... gave it to me..._”

**But it couldn't be—. Steve would—.** _ Steve would—._

The tears were flowing once more. And he hadn't realized his cries, his scream, the wailing that followed until he heard the door abruptly opened and could see the man startled, worried, frantic. Immediately coming to Bucky's side. Bucky hadn't realized he'd sunk to the floor until he was trying to help, picking him up, barely getting the words in and holding him tightly. _He'd likely felt the pain through the bond. _

“_Jamie? What's wrong? W-what happened? Why are you crying?_”

Bucky could only shake his head, frantically crying and shaking. Hardly knowing what he felt. What he was _supposed_ to feel. Repeating the same words, over and over...

“_I don't know—I-I don't know. I d-don't know! I don't—I don't... know..._"

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID YOU READ IT???
> 
> follow the link...
> 
> and read the story...
> 
> it's certainly fluffier than this chapter~, maybe i should have suggested reading it *after*, no? this was more like an onion bomb~<3<3<3
> 
> till next time, my lovelies<3
> 
> GO READ THE STORY IF YOU HAVEN'T. FOLLOW THAT GODDAMN LINK. *see above note for details~*
> 
> seriously, it's cute gais, just read it.


	11. Troublemaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky doesn't know what to believe anymore...
> 
> Steve isn't sure how to relieve these worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, so much for finishing this shit before the year's out~
> 
> HA!
> 
> how are you bitches this fine terrible day? salty? i'm salty, but i'm always salty, so.
> 
> fair.
> 
> i did mention i get distracted, right? cause for real, i get so fucking distracted, so fucking easily
> 
> and i got distracted again... and now i'm distracted... again... and i dont know what i want to work on
> 
> someone
> 
> give me
> 
> some goddamn
> 
> inspiration
> 
> but like, in the right places, this fic, all is fair, and you're my fate. please. bitch.
> 
> cause bitch.
> 
> also, bestiality??? should i tag it??? i'm so confused
> 
> i feel like yes, but also like... it would be misleading??? somehow, maybe tagged with the question marks...
> 
> hmmm...

.oOo.

Steve Rogers was... _had been_... a righteous man.

Almost _annoyingly_ so.

A man who lived by his principles. Fought for those that couldn't. A Protector... by Nature. In his very core. Even when he was small. Even with the whole world looking down on him. For as long as Bucky had known him... he'd always done what he believed to be right. Even when he hadn't stood a chance... Bucky couldn't stop him from fighting even if he'd wanted to.

When the War came... he wanted to help. Cryptids had held a special place in the war. They tended to last longer than Humans. Were more durable. Even if it wasn't their war, they'd already built a very delicate relationship with Humanity. Some Cryptids refused of course. Appalled by what Humanity was yet again creating.

Many Cryptids used to believe that Humanity was the only child of Nature with no skill, no gift, no magic, nothing to aid them in their evolution. Everything they did seemed... _backwards_ when it came to survival. Their genetic code was overwritten so painfully easily. Many more regarded them as nothing more than food. It seemed Nature had abandoned them before they'd ever been given a chance to flourish.

It was a poor assumption to make.

They learned... Invented. And they did _flourish_...

Created... _Terrible_ things. Weapons. War. _Destruction_. Their greatest weakness became a malignant draw of _frightening_ strength. Time and time again, proving themselves to be an unparalleled destructive force. Taking and never giving. Leaving toxic and barren wastelands in wake as they made their path. _Parasitic_.

Conceited...

Some Cryptids saw an opportunity to improve their relationship with them. Their growth seen as an inevitability. And when the dust settled... wasn't it better to be standing with the victors?

Bucky was dragged in before he could make the decision for himself.

And Steve...

He wanted to help. To protect... his reasons for fighting were noble. His heart pure.

And who better to test an experiment on than a poor excuse for a Wolf runt. Nevermind just _who_ he was.

It turned out to be a wicked success. Though it might have been deemed a failure had Bucky not been there to calm him down... not that there would have been anyone _left_ to call it such. And after they'd made sure he was stable, after Bucky had given him something to make sure he could control his reaction to the moon, they'd been separated. And Bucky, he'd been se—.

“James?”

He flinched at being called, looking up at... at _Steve_...

_For what he'd seen could not be undone. The knowledge unlearned..._

“Is everything okay? You've barely touched your food...”

Bucky quickly took a bite as if remembering there was food in front of him at all. It had been a few days more. Today would host the night of the full moon. And he knew Steve was worrying... Bucky had been distant but he just... he didn't understand how—... he bit his lip a moment, taking a breath before speaking as Steve took another bite of his own food.

“W-what do you think of... of Captain America?”

The immediate response was coughing, near choking on his food in a manner that made Bucky wince. When he finally managed to stop, he looked back at Bucky, his expression unhappy and worse for wear... his words were firm.

“He's dead. What would it matter what I think?”

Bucky didn't respond but he knew he'd struck a nerve. He glanced away from Steve.

“James. Are you okay?”

“I—_I'm fine..._”

Steve didn't seem to believe him. But he didn't press either.

During the war, Bucky had been pulled away from Steve's side on orders. It was the worst move they could have made, but done with a purpose. And it was how he got captured the first time...

_It was how he got his wings ripped away. _

_'The first time...'_

_It would have been perfect if Wolves weren't so loyal in nature..._

Steve had come after him. Ended up saving _hundreds_ of Cryptids and men. Desperate not to let Bucky leave his side. He offered so many promises. How he'd get Bucky home safely. How they'd win the war and go home. Start a family when everything was said and done. They'd talked so much about it... Bucky had wanted to, _he'd—... _Steve wanted to set things right, tell the truth about their bond, and if anyone had a problem with it, they could answer directly to him. He had the bite to back up his bark...

Bucky had watched him grow into the King he'd always been meant to be. Lead his Howlies... _find his pack..._

_As s—always watching in the distance—..._

He'd made him a ring, specially designed to help control his transformations during the full moons. _The rage he'd felt in him—..._

But that was small enough... something he could have lost after Bucky had fallen—.

_A Faerie without wings can't fly—._

He took a breath as he dropped his spoon onto the plate. The clink of glass and porcelain wasn't gentle, but it didn't break. Steve looked up again with the same concern, but Bucky covered his own eyes trying to breathe.

“Jami—.”

“_I'm not hungry._”

He tried to hide it, but he couldn't stop the tears. Steve immediately got up to comfort him and Bucky was caught between _needing_ it and wanting to push him away. His body gave the response for him as he desperately clung to the man once more, crying into his chest.

If there was anything he'd learned about Steve Rogers during the war. After the serum. _The way he __**changed**__..._

It was that Steve Rogers had _eidetic _memory...

_And if he'd truly survived the war—..._

.oOo.

“You'll be safest here...”

Bucky stared at the key for a moment. The key to the room around them, his own Sanctuary, staring right back at him... Steve had told him to lock himself in as soon as the night fell.

“James...”

He looked up. He knew what this was. Knew why Steve would be so cautious... _Why didn't he—_?

“I need you to stay here... no matter what you hear... whether you think it's me or... anything else, I need to know you won't leave this room. Can you do that?”

Bucky didn't say anything for a long moment.

“Where are you going?”

He already knew the answer, but...

“_Jamie_...”

Steve gave a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair, seeming worried, barely stopping himself from pacing. He paused for a moment, crouching down next to where Bucky was sitting and placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Doesn't matter where I'm going... I'll be fine. I just need you to be fine too...”  
  


Bucky's nod was hesitant, and when Steve still seemed worried, he spoke to give a clearer answer.

“Yes...”

Steve gave his own nod and one more kiss before leaving.

Bucky watched him close the door, ignoring the faint whispers he could hear from the sprites, but letting his magic watch over Steve. He locked the door, if only for a bit to settle the fear he could sense from him. When he couldn't feel him in the house and finally heard the faint and distant click, he ran up the spiral steps and climbed the end table to peer out of the high, decorative windows that gazed down at the rose garden. _He saw one of the bushes rustle but..._

He almost hid when he saw Steve, but the Wolf didn't notice him. He wasn't wearing any of his clothes though. _The cold barely seemed to affect him—._

Bucky quickly hid when Steve _did_ turn in his direction. Wolves were _very_ perceptive, it wouldn't be unlikely for him to feel Bucky watching him. Bucky cast a quick spell to mask his location. Steve was enhanced beyond a normal Wolf and would no doubt be able to pinpoint his heartbeat, hear any changes in it. But he could be fooled just the same with a doppelganger. Bucky made one of the sprites take his place where he'd been sitting as another spell quieted the racing of his own heart. It was lazily done. The doppelganger looked like him, but it was nothing more than a faded copy, near transparent with magic and light flowing through it, the light of the sprite pulsing just like his heart would.

But it didn't matter because Steve didn't need to see it. Just hear it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he stood back up to look. Steve seemed to take a breath and Bucky could feel the sliver of moonlight pouring in. Feel his magic flowing through him. Growing stronger. Steve wouldn't be able to hear it, but his heart was beating faster and faster. _And he saw him._

Heard him.

Watched as the light of the moon overtook Steve. As his bones broke and his body changed. Grew. Fur spreading over his skin. The gold spilling over the blue of his eyes, the glow of them eerie, striking. As the huge _Wolf_ he'd seen before took place of the _Man._

He couldn't help the shuddered breath as he saw the Lycan finally settle. The heavy breathing calm. Heard the howl that followed... soft. Like a call to the night. He couldn't help but stare. Even feeling the light of the moon in his own body. And he couldn't look away as he saw the Wolf sniffing. He couldn't look away even as those golden eyes locked with his.

There was no recognition in them.

_There wouldn't be..._

He could feel the tears welling and he wanted them to fall as he saw the Wolf turn and walk away. He was in full shift, on all fours. And still Bucky couldn't look away. He lost track of how long he stayed there, just staring at the spot, letting the light of the moon flow through him. And it wasn't until—.

_He gave a gasp as he felt the pulse. Barely managing to stop himself from falling, from stumbling back. His wings holding him in the air, fluttering at rapid speed. His magic barely catching what nearly fell with him as he used it to gently float each item back._

_But the **life** clear..._

He hadn't even been able to keep hold of the doppelganger when he'd felt it. The spell dissipating and the sprite floating back to him, disappearing. He let himself float down, gently landing on his feet, on the first floor in the very spot the moon's glow was strongest. _Of course, it—... how could he have been so blind..._

If it was really Steve, _the bite—... As if he needed any more proof..._

He let his magic gently encircle what he'd felt. The faint pulse of a tiny heartbeat inside his belly, and the even smaller pushback of _beautiful_, pure, magic. Unlike anything he'd felt before. Small, but _so strong_. And—. _He could feel it._ His own magic being pulled _free..._ He felt the tears fall.

_'A little one...'_

_'A pup!'_

_'You're—.'_

“Please stop...”

The sprites grew quite almost immediately and it was one thing Bucky could be thankful for. Sitting in the moonlight with his hand... _his hand where—..._

_Oh, Le Fae..._

He lost track of how many hours passed just—... He couldn't move his hand or pull away... couldn't stop checking again and again. Still in shock. In awe. In fear. He shouldn't have been surprised. Of everything that happened... it could only be expected. He hesitated, but let himself feel the life again. Small and—...

_He sensed another._

But not—... not inside. Or even in the house. It was small, like the one inside him, but not quite the same. And he knew what... what _Steve_ felt like. The _power _he'd felt from him, so he knew it couldn't be...

He got up, at least to distract himself from his warring emotions, going back to the high windows to look at where he'd sensed the other life. From one of the bushes but... He stared quietly for a moment, watching the leaves rustling at the bottom of it. It would have to be something that could—.

_Oh..._

A rabbit...

A small bunny escaped from the bush. Just a baby... it seemed unharmed. Not even a cut from the thorns... Unafraid in the territory. Unknowing. It must have wandered there at some point. It wouldn't be likely to survive... He closed his eyes and took a breath. Moving away from the windows, curling up as he sat down against a bookshelf. _He could sense—._

It was likely to get eaten...

_'It's just a baby...'_

He shouldn't interfere. Steve—.

_'He won't hurt you.'_

_He shouldn't—._

It's just a—.

_Things died in Nature all the time, this wouldn't be any different._

He took a breath as he felt the _Wolf_ coming closer. And he wasn't sure what compelled him to look again, but he—.

_The sudden distress he felt—it wasn't just a—._

.oOo.

_The Wolf could hear a small sound. Scent fear and distress, but it was odd. He felt strange squirming under his paw but—._

_He wasn't given time to look as he felt a strong gust of wind. A familiar magic pushing him back. The growl immediately slipping but he did not scent intruders. In fact, he—..._

_His little Fae..._

_He did not see him, nor anything else, but he could see small prints in the snow. The sweet scent of him lingering for each one. If he listened... he could hear the rushed steps. Running? And huffed breaths. His heart was racing. There was nervousness in his Fae's scent._

_Why?_

_He heard something snap. A break. A branch? And then falling. A small, barely stifled cry of pain. **The scent of blood.**_

_He rushed over quickly. Following the trail, tracking the scent. He could not scent intruders. But he quickly found his Fae. Saw him. The shock on his face. Fear that worried the Wolf. Blood on his leg, his foot, as he curled up. Hiding something. The Wolf glanced. He saw nothing but a large piece of rotten wood on the ground. Smelled nothing but his Fae. And the small bit of blood. _

_He walked over. Licking the wound and watching it heal slowly. With the light of the moon, his Fae would be fine. But he'd not been careful. It would likely bruise quite badly. But still, he chose to shy away from the Wolf._

_He could only stare for a moment. But he could barely resist the sweet scent of him. And why would he? The Fae was his, wholly and completely, the bite marking him. Proof of his claim. Brushing his nose across the thin fabric over his skin. He wore nothing but a soft tunic which barely covered him. Had nothing on his small feet... He must've been cold..._

_He moved closer. Listening to the rushed heartbeat of his Fae._

And a smaller one... _two? One faint, but reminiscent. Pack... _pup_. His instincts humming with satisfaction. The other was too rapid to be Fae nor Wolf. A different rhythm. Run in threes. And weaker._

_His Fae was protecting something. He seemed to curl in tighter, but the sweet scent only grew stronger. And the Wolf could certainly feel how the scent of his mate was affecting him._

He needed to mark him.

_His nose brushed over the edges of to tunic, drawing closer to where the scent was strongest. He pushed the cloth upward once he sourced it. And didn't hesitate in tasting._

_And it was sweet. Very sweet. Odd for a Wolf. Certainly not the typical of his palette, but something about the taste kept him gently lapping it, his tongue dipping into the small space to squeeze more out. Feeling his little Fae shudder and hide himself. Hide the small breathy sounds escaping him. But he did nothing to fight it._

_The sweet flavor was satisfactory, but it raised a different sort of **hunger**. He remembered. His little Fae hadn't wanted to be marked earlier, had not felt the urge for it... **but he needed to be marked**._

_The Wolf pushed at his Fae, adjusting his position just slightly with his nose and raising his hips, then waiting a moment. When his Fae made no move to deny him or escape, he moved forward and draped himself over the tiny thing. He'd be warm this way, fully covered by the Wolf's fur as well. His heartrate rushed faster when the Wolf found the entrance to his prize and slipped in._

_Not as easily. He was larger in this form, a different shape, but the slick walls around him were the same. The entrance to his womb also easy to pinpoint, but he'd already bred his Fae... He blew a soft breath to calm him as he started his movements. There was no need for haste, to distress his Fae any further, but the mark was necessary..._

_Bucky was beside himself._

He could barely believe what was happening. What he was feeling as he covered the small creature and felt himself lazily fucked by the _huge_ Wolf covering him.

Of all the things to happen, he hadn't expected _this_.

Let alone to be _enjoying _it. Stifling his moans, biting his lip. The thick cock sliding in and out of his cunt not missing a single sweet spot. Different, but now so similarly _Steve_. He used to be able to practically feel the movements from one hole to another. That was before he'd ever let anyone—... ever let Steve anywhere near that spot. _Le Fae,_ why hadn't he done that sooner, why did it have to happen like this—.

“_Ah~!_”

He quickly covered his mouth, barely able to keep it in and heard a soft growl in response as the Wolf continued his movements. That he'd even _fit_ was insane, but Bucky could feel _everything_.

When he'd offered himself the way he did to Steve, he first hadn't expected him to find it. It was meant to be hidden for a reason. But when he did, the experience was much different. Since the hole was much more sensitive, he'd been able to feel a bit of the movement whenever they'd had anal sex in the past. But whenever Steve fucked his pussy, the sensation was near overpowering, numbing what else he could feel with intense pleasure. Now, he couldn't help but feel _all_ of it, just edging on pain from the sheer _size_ of the Wolf.

It was too much, _it was too—_.

He couldn't hold in the breaths anymore, soft pants escaping him while the Wolf put barely _any_ effort into his thrusts. He barely had to move and they were too much, too deep. He felt far too full, the penis too thick.

_And it still somehow wasn't enough~._

_Le Fae, what had he become?_

What kind of slut was he to be enjoying this to the extent he was. He'd been trying to save a bunny trapped under the Wolf's paw, trying to avoid his attention. And he ended up tripping and falling, garnering exactly that.

Le Fae, he was _so deep_. Bucky had cast a spell just to protect his baby the moment the Wolf had slipped inside him. In truth, it likely wasn't needed, but he didn't want to take that chance when he'd just... _Le Fae..._

The first orgasm hit him so easily. The next ones that followed, even harder. And he'd expected it. From the moment Steve had stuck that huge, flexible tongue in his cunt, even just lapping the outside, he knew it had been a bit and he'd be sensitive. Some part of him simply hadn't been able to... these last few days, knowing it was _Steve..._

_His Stevie..._

Some part of him still not knowing how to believe it, or even if he did... it just changed _everything_.

And yet here he was, unable to pull away, unable to keep up, unable to deny it. By the 12th one, he was losing consciousness, and by the 13th, he _felt_ the knot. The stream of heat flooding his inner walls. Still trying to catch his breath, and it wasn't nearly enough as he felt light headed dreariness overtake him.

He faded just as easily as that first night, if a lot more gently.

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGHHHHH~<3<3<3!!!!!
> 
> look what mah friend doodled...
> 
> [bucky bear looks pregnant ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))](https://www.instagram.com/p/B6rqcQDAv5q/)
> 
> i told her she should post it here and she's just like, 'maybe when i make an account to start my fan comic cause just... that place is intense...'
> 
> and i'm like... 'you're fuckin' adorable', but also ;)))););)));)))))))))))))))))))));));))));))))))))))));))))))))););));));)));)))))))))))))))));)));)))))))
> 
> also, hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm~, i WONDER what that bunny--...
> 
> ;)
> 
> ;))
> 
> ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> feed me attention or some good mumma bucky, i'm still needy as fuck and deprived
> 
> am i forgetting something?
> 
> i don't... know...
> 
> hmmm~


	12. Distant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's losing his place with each new thing he learns.
> 
> Steve's losing him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy gais~<3
> 
> ...
> 
> i know, i been gone a while, hahaha ha ha... ha... *sigh*
> 
> to be honest, i've been kinda down recently, thoughts of endgame came rearing back up and they hit me pretty hard, sometimes i'm like fuck yeah, let's fight this and make BETTER fics! other times... i'm just... confused i guess? how something fictional can still hit so hard, and how people can accept the sheer and utter hot garbage that ending was.
> 
> but moreover... I got fuckin' distracted again, cause when don't I? and I've been thinking (always terrible), i recently had a conversation with my friend in which something dawned on both of us regarding that ending (she promised to make another theory that's extremely dark and i am so ready for it, it's not even funny, but also~<3<3<3) and in the end it got me thinking, and what initially started as another porny deliciously scandalous story for me to have fun writing~ (shuddap, i do what i want... for the love a satan someone please help my inspiration and focus to stop the infinite distractions...) started to lean towards a bit of a political statement and a full on psychoanalytical critique of what endgame represented, and what that epiphany was comprised of (hint: something not good, there's a reason the ending feels *wrong*, and it's not the lack of stucky, and THAT's fuckin' sayin somethin'!...but also, the lack of stucky, you know i'm a cunt)
> 
> normally, my writing doesn't take that turn, i just like writing good stories to enjoy even if there might be subtle hints of stuff like that, or rather, i don't like making hardcore political commentary work where that becomes the focus of the work, it's kind of always turned me off, and not because i don't like progress (cause come on, progress is fuckin' great! i wish humanity and my writing didn't take the worst fuckin' snail's pace!) but because when i read a story, i would rather just enjoy the story and not have, "HERE ARE ALL MY POLITICAL BIASES AND IDEOLOGIES, TAKE AND ACCEPT THEM WHILE YOU READ THIS STORY!" When i just honestly, i probably showed up for the porn
> 
> and if you want to moan to presidents and ideas, go for it, by all means, and to be fair, sometimes this is done very well, the story is well rounded and developed with good arguments of what's being presented, good information in a way to provoke thought, rather than slap politits--i mean a dick-- i mean politics. in your face in a way that can actually detract from the story or the reader's engagement, whether i agree with the idea or not (cause we all know that good ideas can be presented with terrible arguments/misinformation, and it makes a mess)
> 
> subtlety is used to incorporate the ideas into the story, and using the flow of the story, rather than have them randomly thrown out, presented one sidedly, immaturely, or with one dimensional characters/villains
> 
> and again, to be fair, part of this can be chalked up to writing skill, we all start out somewhere, there are a lot of younger writers out there that might not have learned certain tools of the trade just yet, doesn't mean they can't though ;)
> 
> it can also be a difficult balance to find between story and the message getting lost or going over peoples' heads, good job to the writers who find this balance and manage to keep my interest cause holy fuck, i lose interest so easily if i try it myself, politits is stressful
> 
> to put it more bluntly, it can come off as an unsolicited dic pic in the middle of the book you're reading, in which you're reading the story, you turn the page, and then just that one giant page. is a dick...
> 
> huuuhhh...
> 
> i like it better when there are smaller dick pics occasionally sprinkled throughout is all i'm sayin', even if i knew what i was signing up for to start and had expected the giant dick, like that shit still catches you off guard as soon as the page is turned, lol, it just holds my interest better
> 
> anywho~, since i get really bored writing political stuff, it was more going to be the story with certain subtleties, and commentary/critique, explaining it in the notes, and what comparison it's drawing or portraying... with additional bitching... specifically so i could bitch all i wanted... cause like... y'all know i bitch. and i am a fuckin' bitch.
> 
> this story also, would not be posted until it was completely done, but i'm sure you're all more interested in *this* story right now, so let's save the rest of this for that end note~
> 
> fair warning for some descriptive gore in this chapter, i would say mild, but i could be desensitized, so, just know, the wolf's gonna fuckin' eat~<3

.oOo.

_'W...e... u...'_

_'...ak... ...p...'_

_'**Wake up!**'_

Bucky woke with a start. Frightened just by the tone of the sprites. _And he heard it._

The immediate 'fwip' of something being shot, gracefully darting through the air to hit its target. His body was covered by the Wolf, still keeping him warm, guarding him. But he suddenly felt much heavier, and―.

_His stomach hurt._

His magic kicked in to try and ease the weight, the little creature still with him, cuddled in and protected but―.

“Well, would you look at that... little escaped _faerie_ caught by the _big bad wolf_... you've caused us some trouble with your new friend. Some losses that you'll rightly pay for... Soon as she found out _who_ was protecting you, bitch insisted we don't hurt _him_... we may have tweaked her formula a bit... _be a shame to leave that pretty coat to waste after all..._”

Bucky glanced at what he shot Steve with. It looked like a tranquilizer of some kind. But he could sense the potion inside. Made for sleep paralysis. And _potent_. Concentrated, enhanced with magic. And―.

_Silver... they added silver to it. Steve―. The b―._

Bucky tried to focus. To protect himself, to _help_ Steve. His own magic was fighting against him and he couldn't―.

He heard the gun being loaded. Saw the man aim at him. Hydra had never... _they'd never..._

“Enough's enough... we're supposed to bring you in, but our lives are worth _far_ more than yours. And you've cost us too many... No more point in keeping such a filthy waste of breath around,_ but I'm sure they'll find use for your corpse._”

Bucky's eyes widened. He couldn't blink. Or breath. He could sense the iron bullets. The pain in his stomach growing stronger. _Something he'd just discovered and wasn't even capable of protecting already fading from him._ And Steve―... There was no escape with his magic unstable. He was out of options, still hiding the small creature. Bringing his hands up and closing his eyes as he heard the shot and felt the body above him go stiff.

_He felt the pulse next. And the sharp ricochet._

And when he opened his eyes and saw that sharp anger―.

_Blood immediately sprayed his face as that massive jaw bit hard enough to make a clean, painfully bold **crack**, a crunch of bone. Teeth closed tight enough to near separate the pieces. One paw pulled away the legs. What was left of a spine and intestines spilling out with blood pooling on the ground. Another crack and the other part couldn't hold on by thin strings of flesh, easily tearing as nothing more than a simple bust fell in front of Bucky's face._

_Staring in all parts. Furious. Horrified. Blank._

And deeply disturbing. The gun he'd held fallen and bent beside him. Bucky couldn't watch as he saw the pieces torn smaller and devoured. As he _felt_ them swallowed beside him. _Steve didn't chew them much..._

The head rolled closer to him and still, Bucky was frozen. Watching the snout push it just slightly before that same jaw opened up and took it within sharp, pearly fangs shining through deep red. Crushing it, once again swallowing, before his tongue licked away the remaining blood.

Bucky could feel himself shivering. And the Wolf seemed to respond by tightening the space, closing Bucky into his fur to warm him up. Considerate, all things considered. Bucky could barely force himself to look up. And when he did, the Wolf only looked calmly back.

Before licking the blood from his face, giving a much smaller one on Bucky's mouth. The taste not going unnoticed.

He was trapped there for a moment. Until Steve seemed to pick up something else in the forest and Bucky heard the growl.

He didn't wait for it to come around, suddenly running off. But it still took Bucky a moment to fully come back to himself. Apart from the blood and gun. There was no trace of him. Not a scrap of clothes or flesh. The darts that had been in Steve's fur had fallen out. Bucky's stomach didn't hurt anymore. But his foot did.

He stood, still holding the bunny. When Steve didn't come back right away, and he could hear the screaming in the distance, he started walking back. More of a limp with his leg the way it was. And he could still hardly think but it didn't seem to matter.

He should have expected to find men in the manor. But it seemed he made the decision before he could think about it. His magic flowing through him and unhinged. Something felt... _wrong_. But he couldn't bring himself to protest. Stepping over one of the bodies.

He needed a bath.

.oOo.

Bucky lost track of how much time passed in that tub. He regulated the water temperature with his magic. An odd mixture of heated cooling, warmth to avoid the chill of the cold, mint to keep him from overheating. The bunny had been hesitant at first, not allowing himself into the water and simply hopping above it. But when Bucky treated the scratch on his back, he relaxed enough to fall in, just letting himself float in water, belly up. It was how Bucky realized it was a boy.

When he floated too far from Bucky, he would flip over and quickly swim back to him. They were known for forming quick attachments with magic users, but Bucky wasn't so sure he was the best person for that... He hardly knew what he should do. But the creature seemed to get bored after enough time. Bucky set him down on the tile before getting out himself. He made sure to dry him slowly and check over the scratch...

Steve hadn't even noticed him, but...

Bucky had known there was something off about the roses, he hadn't thought they would attract a—.

_'They're still here...'_

He knew... _he could hear them..._

Bucky thought about going back to his Sanctuary. In the end, he decided against it. Simply placing a spell on the lock of the door that would fade by the morning. And laying down on the bed after putting on one of Steve's shirts.

He let the little bunny distract him, just watching him curiously hop back and forth on the thick comforter of the bed. From the voices, from his thoughts, from what turned into screaming outside... eventually dwindling to eerie silence and occasionally, the small tap of claws on the flooring.

The whimpering and soft scratches at the door he eventually heard broke his trance for a moment, bringing a number of feelings with them. Guilt, fear, frustration, _relief_... but in the end, it wouldn't matter. Steve probably wouldn't remember what happened in the night. He felt the small creature curl into his belly and fall asleep, but he couldn't stop the tears from falling. Bucky wasn't sure how long Steve stayed there before leaving... or how long it took to fall asleep.

.oOo.

_"Bucky!”_

“_**...am...**”_

“_**J...s...**_”

“**Jamie!**”

He woke up with a slight jump, and heard his name being shouted again. Trying to remember what had happened as he came to. Last night had been the full moon. The rabbit... _Steve..._ more men had shown up...

Last night had been the full moon...

_He hadn't stayed in the Sanctuary._

He got up immediately, taking the bunny with him and following the voice. Taking a fast pace, as fast as he could, before he spotted the man. Once again naked and covered in dried blood. The worry and desperation on his face clear before he ran to Bucky. Holding on tightly as soon as he had him, as if letting go would somehow make Bucky disappear. Bucky could feel himself tense, but he let Steve hold tight. He only stopped squeezing when they both felt the slight squirming between them, pushing back enough to see the bunny in Bucky's arms as he stared back with a slightly guilty expression.

Steve's own expression faltered as he stared at Bucky. Part of him seemed to be taking in the scene, the information. The nasty bruises on Bucky's foot. When he spoke, his words were soft but balanced and clear.

“You went outside...”

Bucky looked down at the little creature in his arms and back up at Steve.

“I-_I had to..._ I—... he needed saving...”

“_Jamie..._”

Steve looked halfway caught between being heartbroken and stern. His concern won out.

“What were thinking? _You could have been killed—._”

“I wasn't—!”

“That's not the issue! _What if you had been? **Or worse?**_ Would it have been worth it? Risking your life like that for a-_for a rabbit? Jesus... a fucking rabbit—._”

“_He didn't hurt me._”

He said the words, but when Steve moved forward, reaching a hand out, Bucky flinched away from him. Memories of the night prior flashing through his mind. _The Wolf, Hydra, **the blood, the screaming, every death, every kill—.**_

For fear or guilt, he couldn't say. But he saw the way Steve pulled himself back and the worry in his brows, in his eyes. The image of red spritzing across his face, a head being swallowed up by that maw, had him trembling. And he couldn't say why. He knew. Logically, he'd _known_. He'd _always_ known. _**Wolves were predators.**_

And he had no right to complain.

There were bodies still present, lying pale and untouched on the floor. Eyes glassy and skin chilled and pale, preserved. The blood had stopped flowing the moment their hearts stopped.

He felt the bunny squirming before he hopped out of Bucky's arms and over to one. To take in what had been left behind.

_The magic he used to kill them would've made the Wolf avoid them—._

“James...”

“_He protected me..._”

Bucky said the words but he couldn't stop his emotions. Each thought and memory burned in his mind, fresh on the surface and refusing to go away. He couldn't stop the tears from picking up once again. And he couldn't stop himself from curling up or shying away from the Wolf.

Steve could do nothing but watch...

.oOo.

James pulled away from him.

Steve could sense something was wrong. He knew he'd _done_ something wrong. But between the wavered and watery memories under the moon... he didn't know. He hardly remembered much beyond the screams and taste of... _incredibly_ fresh meat. How much he'd enjoyed it.

But there was a disconnect. In his mind. Half the time, he still wondered if the memories he _did_ have were real. And now James...

His mate. The one thing he _knew_, without a single doubt, without any bit of jumbling between past and present, that he... _loved..._

_He was pulling away..._

The cleaver came down on another hand. More kibble to make. He'd set up what had been left from last time just outside somewhere to pull him away from the house. And he remembered clearly enough, it was the first thing to catch his attention when he'd transformed. He'd sated a bit of his hunger, and caught a _scent_ but he... Then it had come back tenfold... It felt like... silver had entered his bloodstream at one point. And made him ravenous. He wouldn't be surprised if it had.

The bodies... they'd felt _wrong_ at first. Somehow... and he couldn't explain it. His mind reeling, telling him that disposing of them would be best. Maybe buried in the garden. Both as Wolf and... he wasn't sure, but he considered that he might have buried a body somewhere under the roses at some point. Or at least dragged it there. He'd check later.

When he'd come back after cleaning himself up a bit, the blood in the house, putting on work clothes, they felt normal. As normal as cadavers could feel anyway. And he knew making more kibble would mean less hunger for the next moon. The roses filtered enough blood, enough of the terrible things that happened here...

He took a breath. Feeling the familiarity of odd nausea centered around a singular piece. The metal traveling back up. The hacking that followed. But he felt more sick. And he saw why the moment he could see what came up.

Silver rings this time. They likely knew.

_And he'd barely felt it._

His immunity was getting stronger.

He pushed the thoughts aside as he finished up.

James was...

He came back and heard him retching. He'd left the Sanctuary. It was probably safe to say he saw more that he shouldn't. Hydra had him captured for some time, but dismantling bodies this messily, and in this amount, likely wasn't something they did. If he remembered correctly, they preferred to keep their Cryptids separate, and some varieties could be killed very cleanly if not found useful.

Steve listened for a moment, trying to decide whether or not he should approach. James hadn't even let him treat and wrap up his foot. And he didn't explain what happened either but Steve could guess he'd fallen at some point. He came back with a glass of water for him and saw James hesitate, but take it. Something changed last night. He insisted the Wolf had protected him, hadn't hurt him, but it was clear enough to Steve that _something_ had happened. Even with the scented oils he'd used to take a fragrant bath, maybe even to cover it up. He could smell every possessive pheromone lingering on James.

_Remembered those wide crystalline eyes, the moon shining through them, staring at him._

“Jamie...”

“_I'm fine..._”

He was holding his stomach.

It was clear to Steve that some part of him was decidedly _not_ fine. But when he noticed where Steve's gaze had gone, he quickly set the glass down and picked up the bunny again. Steve hadn't asked. But he could tell if he did, James would refuse to part with it. At least right now. He left it alone.

There were repairs to make.

.oOo.

They both let themselves get distracted.

Over the next week, Bucky stayed distant from Steve. And the irritation the Wolf had progressively grown.

The bunny especially, didn't seem to help. And Bucky knew it. Steve had asked him, multiple times, why he'd kept the thing around. It didn't help that he'd seemed to take a liking to biting Steve. Bucky could never give him an answer. Still feeling guilt. Still feeling fear. Anger. Frustration. Part of him still wondering. Staring at Steve as the words crossed his mind but never escaped his mouth.

_Why don't you remember me?_

He had an answer for almost every question Steve had. But he couldn't bring himself to say them. Just as he couldn't bring himself to ask. Instead hiding. How he fed the bunny. Letting him purify the roses. What he really was.

The reason behind his vomiting.

He'd stopped bothering with hiding the fact that it was something consistent. And Steve had shown his concern, trying to solve the issue. Trying to find something to help Bucky. Even going so far as to help him make sweets. Sugar tended to be very healthy and needed for the Fae. Despite it so easily being toxic with so many other species. More proof of who he was without any hints of knowing how they used to be...

Bucky hid the fact of the life growing inside of him. Not knowing how to tell Steve. He knew he wouldn't be able to forever... knowing made ignoring it near impossible. The reason he'd gained weight and was _continuing _to grow. And if it stuck to how the Fae—... _He wouldn't have much time at all. _But part of him doubted the news would be met with happiness.

The irritation seemed to reach its head when Bucky named the bunny. He didn't have any other ideas. And he could see the similarities between them. The stupidity, the lack of caution for being hurt, what drove him... if different from what it used to be. The name had actually slipped, but now that Bucky _knew_, he couldn't go back on the distinction. The fact that Steve was _Steve_ remained. Bucky had been calling him _Steve_ for a while now. If they spoke at all. So the little creature became Grant. Steve still wasn't used to it.

He'd broken what he was working on when he'd heard the sudden call and saw Bucky picking up the bunny again. Bucky heard him take a breath to calm himself before turning to look at him. Maybe the only solace in having him around for Steve was that Bucky had made sure to house train him so quickly. That he wasn't _quite _a regular rabbit remained unsaid. Unknown to Steve. But the biting hadn't stopped either. No matter what other manners Bucky tried to teach him.

“So is that his name now? You named him Grant, set in stone...”

“Is it so wrong of me to?”

“You know where we are, what lurks outside. You're letting yourself get attached.”

“I can protect him.”

“And if you can't? Just don't be surprised when he gets eaten...”

The words were said with eerie calm. They were also a warning. Maybe even a reminder to himself. Steve still wondered why he hadn't killed _Bucky_ on any one of those nights. Knew he still could. Even if the Wolf part of him likely knew about... _about the pup_, Steve didn't.

It was like everything he was... every part of who he'd been was taken apart. The pieces left for him to figure out what way they went and try to put them back together. The connection with that part of him suffering just as much. Even if his control hadn't been perfect before, he could at least remember what happened.

Bucky watched him leave, the words ringing. He'd promised to stay in the Sanctuary during the next full moon, but he also knew Steve didn't believe him. With the distance growing between them, he was likely losing faith in his ability to protect Bucky, in the idea that Bucky would still be alive the next time.

He was walking, distractedly down the hall with little _Grant_ in his arms, when he heard the door, the voice. Light and soft. Playfully calling to Steve. The familiarity of the magic... _familial. _The Le Fae bloodline but different. Maybe a more distant cousin. _Or_...

Pure. Strong but gentle and... _innocent._ Her sprites were notably hidden, but there was a distinctive lack of chaotic energy within it. Calming. Almost inviting and... _giving_. Certainly not something he was used to feeling within his bloodline. _And—._

He looked up, his heart pounding at the sudden feeling. He saw Steve come out and walk down the stairs, seeming to reign in what had just happened, not overjoyed, but not upset. A young woman ran to him. A young Faerie. Wearing a white dress. No.

An intricately regal Fae's Gown, meant to enhance and protect her magic. The silk of it beautiful. Enchanted jewelry glowing along each accent. Her wings, captivating, iridescent. The frame, a pearly white, folded down and resting. Her hair shining, a bright blonde, long and loosely curled, decorated to match. It showed that she hardly left the Frollick.

_And her features—._

Bucky felt his heart clenching.

He saw Steve politely greet her and take in the hug and the simple kiss on the cheek. Even if she'd made a face at the beard. It was then she noticed Bucky and Grant. Her smile faded. And the other Faerie with her walked by her side. Every bit as elegant. Every bit as beautiful. Dark hair and distinctively bold lipstick.

_Every bit as powerful..._

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmmmmm, i wonder about that 'bunny'... and who these two pretty pretty ladies are~<3 ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> now, regarding the mentioned *other* story in progress, i guess the last thing i'd want to know is how many people would be interested in seeing those kinds of thoughts from me on a story (i feel it would also have a sort of behind the scenes vibe to see how i process the scenes and decide how i make the story, apart from, you know the crackheaded version of that some of you got to see in my stucky ideas fic before this site's overlords~ decided to be pompous jerks (not the good kinds like bucky boo~, no no no) that don't understand ART, yes, still salty my bitches)
> 
> but apart from that, i mentioned not posting it until it was done, this is because it would then instead of being another added fic on the pile of disorganized crackhead i am, be something for complete steam release (with all the bitching bitch), in which the only thing being adjusted/added would be the commentary if not done ahead of time (probably to be done during proofreading, i am a cunt, bitching comes pretty easily, curse the abomination that is bottom steve), and because it would mean i'd have something to upload consistently while i work on other things, like 'you're my fate...'~ maybe<3? 'all is fair...', *gasp*, maybe this~ one (if it's not finished, holy fuck. do i. get. fuckin'. distracted. fuck.)
> 
> and would anyone be interested in discussing those things with me, maybe even grievances you might have on endgame, throw them at me, maybe we have the same ideas, but also, possibly even spreading the word (once presented) like a loose anus--i mean bad case of the clap...
> 
> that's still a terrible analogy ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> yes, if you have questions about our epiphany, i'll actually go ahead and answer them, just prepare to be a bit disgusted and sad, and for 'steggy' to possibly be ruined for you if you like it (though let's be honest, it probably has been for most of us) 
> 
> i maaaaaaaaaay be open to answering a few questions on the premise of the more scandalous~ portions of the idea, just to see if that might wet the tip of the coc-jesus what is wrong with me today, i haven't been a pervert in too long, but who am i kidding, i'm fucking awful, why would i be sorry?
> 
> anyway, bottom (bucky~<3) line, who's curious? 
> 
> and if you have questions about *this* story~... ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> ...
> 
> did i cut too many onions this chapter?


	13. Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky finally has his answer.
> 
> Steve learns one more way he's hurt him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know... i wasn't gonna update today, but i'm *really* fucking salty right now
> 
> and you know me
> 
> the petty ass bitch
> 
> who can't not be salty or fucking petty
> 
> there's too much 'omega steve' that's been updating lately, and too many instances of me updating my search for mumma bucky only to think 'tasteless', 'disgusting', 'gross', and 'garbage', not even the fun kind... por shame (yes, i know i can exclude tags, but some people don't include tags and i don't want to miss the opportunity!... for a pregnant *alpha* bucky boo fic... we all know how lovely~ that can be... or at least those who read 'little red star & the big bad--fuck...'... shut up, i'ma goddamn weirdo satan please help me)
> 
> rant with me (don't harass anyone, can't remember if i've ever said that, but i definitely should, as tempting...as it may be... *heavy breathing*) but do rant with me about your grievances, the tasteless garbage of bottom steve as well as the tasteless garbage of endgame, they're basically the same thing after all
> 
> also, be prepared for some nasty smut~
> 
> lucky number 13, lol, that's appropriate~<3 i think this might be the longest chapter so far... does that mean there will be cut onions~?
> 
> ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

.oOo.

“Peggy, Sharon, this is James. James, this is Sharon and―.”

“We've met.”

Steve seemed to pause a moment, but nodded. It would make sense. Steve knew that Bucky was of a pure bloodline at least, in his mind, likely nobility. As far as he knew, _remembered_, Peggy and Sharon must have been the remainder of the Le Fae bloodline.

After greeting them, Steve was a gracious host. Settling them in the drawing room and offering refreshments. Tea and sweet biscuits. Some with a soft candied jam in the center, sprinkled with powdered sugar. Others with a simple glaze and single sugary maraschino cherry half, some generously frosted with a fluffed mallow root icing. A few more, of buttery shortbread checkerboards, and then softer cookies with a chocolate drop center. Milk and sugar for the tea. All sweet things Steve normally wasn't used to having in his home, but knew they would like nonetheless. He'd invited Bucky to come meet and enjoy some time with them. Bucky couldn't find a reason to say no.

Peggy gave a slight smile and tilted her head before speaking.

“Margaret, for those that don't... know me quite as well. And... have we now? I can't say I recall when, but I suppose it's possible. I can't really be bothered to remember all our subjects.”

“_Peggy_.”

“Hush now darling, you know it's true.”

Sharon gave a sigh but turned to Bucky with a smile and slight blush.

“I'm sorry. You'll have to forgive us if―.”

“It's fine... I didn't expect to be remembered...”

There was a shift in her eyes.

“My my, where are your manners? Interrupting my darling sister?”

“Peggy.”

“Well, you can't expect me to not be protective of those I love, Steve.”

Steve didn't say anything, and it was his lack of words that spoke volumes more. She simply sighed and sipped her cup of tea. Distractedly moving her hair behind an ear as if in a shy attempt to catch his attention. But Steve's gaze had already gone back towards Bucky, even if Bucky was intently focused on the other Fae present. Sharon seemed to notice the way Steve was looking at Bucky.

She never thought she'd see such an expression on him, but she noticed the tension in the room. Something was... _off. _She took up one of the sweets and took a bite to calm herself. Then broke the silence.

“How long has James been here?”

Even Bucky seemed to fall out of his trance, the hand he passed over his belly didn't go unnoticed for Sharon, even if he discreetly moved it over the little bunny to pull the thing closer. She'd sensed the small life within him from the start, before she'd even been able to pinpoint his own magic, wondering if Steve knew. She wondered if Peggy could sense it, she was powerful, but her magic was different from Sharon's. In reality, Sharon had been an anomaly in the Le Fae bloodline from the start.

Steve was the one to answer.

“He's been here about 2 months...?”

Bucky quickly looked at Steve but then away, reaffirming what he said.

“2 months...”

2 months, through 3 moons... it wasn't a very long time, but it somehow seemed too long in light of what Steve was. Peggy voiced her concern first.

“So just shy of the last time I saw you... _Steve_...”

“It's fine. We've been fine... We've... managed.”

“Are you absolutely sure of that? I came here today because I've been getting reports of... reemergences of _Hydra_. Sightings and, well―. People are disappearing, Human and Cryptid. I needed to know that you were okay...”

“You know that I would be...”

“I see...”

She took a pause before looking back over at Bucky. Her next words made him tense.

“Just be careful. I've heard many stories. One in particular lingers. An _immensely_ dangerous man that Hydra uses to terrorize, kill, dismantle Cryptid territories... Even capture them for experimentation. He's known as the _Winter_ _Soldier._.. and if the rumors are to be believed, not even you may be a match for him...”

Steve remained quiet a moment. Bucky wasn't sure what to do. He couldn't say anything. Could feel the shiver up his spine and the lump forming in his throat. They noticed.

“James, are you alright?”

“Yes... you seem rather pale.”

Bucky barely managed to shake his head. He needed to leave.

“_I should go_.”

But the moment he got up, he felt light headed. Steve reacted just as quick, catching him before he fell, but Grant had fallen out of his arms. Bucky was blacked out for a few minutes before he was waking up to concern on Steve's face and an overbearing scent of mint. They were back in Steve's bedroom, the guests lingering at the door. Steve had never been able to stand the scent of ammonia, but he always tried to have some variant of a smelling salt handy.

He'd done it during the war and... the first few nights Bucky had stayed. Despite trying, he hadn't been eating properly or getting enough sleep then. He'd been too distracted to care to without Steve's worry. On both occasions. Likely the same worries he held now, between Bucky's lack of an appetite and the vomiting. He tried to eat more now, he knew he had to, he just—... He couldn't help gently placing his hand over his stomach as he tried to get up. Steve gently squeezed his hand as if asking him to stay. He still didn't know... but Bucky was grateful for his intolerance of ammonia. He took a deep breath. He could see Sharon holding Grant from the corner of his eye. _And the mock concern on—_.

“Jamie...”

“I'm fine...”

“Fine. You just _fainted._..”

“I just—... I'm just tired... A little drained, maybe...”

Steve sighed but got up. He came back with another plate of food and a damp washcloth. Small sandwiches, they smelled like cucumber, and a Faerie cake. He used the washcloth to gently clean Bucky's hands before insisting he eat a bit. And watching him do so. Part of him felt like a child under that gaze, hating when Steve did this. But the other part...

Steve made sure to leave a cup of hot tea by the bedside, ginger with milk, at the very least before leaving.

Peggy waited patiently. Careful not to call his attention until Steve had left Bucky's side, and they were back in the other room.

“Steve... I'm worried about you... for you... and your guest. This is not a threat to be taken lightly.”

Bucky closed his eyes. He hadn't wanted to be there, hearing these words. And yet, he couldn't avoid them... _couldn't stop himself from overhearing them._ Bucky had allowed one of his sprites to discreetly watch over them with caution. The next ones, he maybe didn't deserve. But Steve said them just as gently.

“I guess it's good I have James here to protect me now...”

Bucky felt the tears welling and closed his eyes.

The same words made her near choke on the next sip of tea. Sharon seemed to give a surprised pause, but hid her smile by comforting the bunny in her arms. Peggy took one of the serviettes to recompose herself before clearing her throat to once again speak. It clearly wasn't what she had been expecting. But she'd never been a person to care for Steve's sarcasm, or the punk like part of him that made him _Steve_.

“Quite. _Steven_, please keep in mind, this _isn't_ something to joke about.”

“We'll be fine.”

He said those words more firmly. Before she could say anything else that might bring back the tension, Sharon cut in with a change of subject. Using her magic to soothe Grant.

_Grant was probably the very reason she was really here._ _The severed connections and hold over―._

“What about this little guy, how long has he been here?”

“Be careful, he―... bites...”

Steve furrowed his brows at the difference in behavior, a slight frown forming on his features realizing that maybe it was just him. Considering. Grant hadn't, he had no interest in doing so, not to Sharon at least. And he'd been in her arms for some time now.

“James found him... about a week ago.”

They ended up sitting back down in some comfort, but he was still worried about him.

“A week ago, that was the full moon, wasn't it?”

“Yes.”

He could see the slight surprise on her face. Sharon seemed kind enough to steer the conversation away from the dark tones the question could have taken them.

“He must have been very lucky then, and it's lucky that James found him. Their kind tend to be so rare but it's said they bring good wherever they end up.”

Steve seemed a bit confused, so she asked another question.

“What did you name him?”

There was clear blush on his face.

“I uh, I... didn't.”

“Oh. Then... what did he name him?”

Steve almost didn't want to answer, giving a sigh as he did.

“Grant...”

The laughter and eyeroll that followed from the two Faeries could be expected.

The rest of the conversations in the visit took a less serious tone to allow a somewhat calmer atmosphere. But there was still something so strange about it. Steve was kind, the sweets were well made, if enough for them to make Steve blush about it. She thought it was beautiful that he'd made them for James, who'd been having trouble with food. He maybe didn't know why. Part of her wanted to ask, but she knew it wouldn't be helpful. And not very polite with James unable to join them.

Something in Steve lit up every time he looked at James... in a way she'd never seen before. She was almost certain of why. Peggy grew quiet for the latter part of the conversation. Observant like she always was. But by the end of it, Grant seemed a bit restless. He'd hopped towards Peggy, intent clear before Steve scooped him up to stop it. Enduring the bite himself and keeping him away from her. Still, both Faeries gave their goodbyes.

Sharon shared a hug with him and kissed his cheek. Scrunching her nose up at the beard again.

“Bye Steve, we'll come visit another time. Hopefully soon. With James in a better condition?”

He'd be further along then too...

“Yeah...”

Peggy kept her distance because of the bunny in his arms.

“You should shave. You always look so much more handsome without fur on your face.”

Blunt. Steve seemed a bit surprised but also held in _something_ he could have said. By the way he was trying to hide the smile, Sharon could guess it wasn't _appropriate_, and likely to make Peggy unhappy.

She wasn't expecting the words from her sister cutting her off as soon as they left those doors. And she wasn't sure what to make of them.

“**Do **_**not**_** trust him.**”

“Wha―, but—.”

“That... _guest_ of Steve's... there's something he's _hiding_. Precaution is best, especially where Steve is concerned. The _rumors_... It all seems far too convenient, wouldn't you say?”

She didn't have words to reply.

.oOo.

Steve gave a sigh as he let his forehead fall against the door once he closed it. That was... more stressful than he'd been expecting. Grant squirmed in his arms until he dropped him. Steve didn't really bother trying to keep a hold of the little shit. But he seemed perfectly fine hopping away and all. The moment he turned around, James pulled him into a searing kiss. Possessively driven, but Steve kissed back with equal fervor. Despite his initial surprise.

Bucky couldn't stop the tears. The guilt he felt for pushing Steve away. All this time. And he'd never thought for a second―. _For trying to break the―._ For letting him take the blame for something he never had control over. _For not seeing this sooner after everything she'd done._

_'Yes...'_

_'She did this.'_

_'Tried to take him...'_

_'Regardless of cost.'_

_'It's what she wanted...'_

_'Hurt him.'_

_'But she didn't care...'_

He knew now. He knew why. _It wasn't his fault._ _He hadn't―._

Steve had trouble holding back. Bucky knew that. Could feel it in each kiss that followed. In the aggression, the desperation, _the possessive domination. _The deep growls that were slipping from him. _The glow in his eyes the Wolf likely hadn't even noticed._

Closing them tight for a minute once he did. Trying to hold himself back.

Bucky's breathing was harsh. Deep as he caught his breath. Staring back before gently placing his hand on one of those cheeks, thumb brushing a cheekbone, his fingers through the beard.

“_Steve..._”

Those same eyes opened... the gold in them clear, _beautiful._

_Dangerous._ And far more than that... _Protective._

Bucky took a shuddered breath before pushing up to kiss Steve again. His _mate, _his_ Alpha... _the Wolf King... _his love... and now... the father of his child... _He almost couldn't hold it. Dull pain in his foot, still not healed. He managed, watching those eyes fade back to blue as he'd calmed down with the chaste kiss. It wouldn't last. Bucky could feel his heart racing... but part of him didn't mind.

Steve kissed him again. And again. Deeper this time, stealing his breath away, tasting the sugar still on James' lips. The milk and ginger in the tea. His fangs barely able to keep from grazing, but Steve was conscious of it, cautious. His tongue dancing circles around James', demanding more from him. In the next instance, pinning him against a wall.

He didn't hesitate. Their mouths not leaving each other, swallowing up every little moan, stifling each little breath. He pressed himself close, feeling the heat of James' pussy through their clothes, pushing the straining erection still trapped in his pants against it. He lifted one of James' legs, then the other, making sure he wouldn't have to stand on his injured foot. And kept kissing. Wanting, _needing_ more. For every minute, every second they'd missed. Hadn't done this. Weeks, days, _hours, minutes, seconds..._ all of it was too much. Those legs wrapped loosely around his waist in encouragement, but James' body was fragile. Overwhelmed with sensation.

Steve had one hand grip his ass. Tightly squeezing the delicate fat and soft flesh. Digging into light muscle underneath. He felt softer. A little heavier. Maybe a bit surprising given his recent inability to keep food down, but _god, it had been too long..._

James hung on, arms around his neck, and Steve used the opportunity to bring his other hand into James' pants. Setting him free and grabbing hold of the Faerie's penis. He'd noticed before. The soft skin, the hairlessness. He was always too impatient to admire just how pretty it was, but he'd missed savoring this so much, he couldn't stop himself. His balls were rounder, closer to his body and softer than Steve's, maybe something that could be attributed to his much nicer skin or the lack of hair, but they were cutely flushed and perfect, like two large pearls, though much softer. His shaft felt equally smooth and sweet. Pale skin a pretty blush at the end. The more aroused he was, the deeper the color. The head was almost fully rounded, a different and seemingly delicate shape by comparison.

Already with precum beading at tip, Steve gave it a light squeeze before spreading the liquid. It probably wasn't fair, but the sweet scent escaping James made it hard to deny himself. Slowly stroking him, teasing him as he planted much softer kisses along his neck. He set himself free, and by contrast, his cock seemed like something angry. Painfully hard. Thicker, longer, harsher. The vein pulsing, the color near alarming. His sac hanging heavy from the heat of his body in the mess of pubic hair at the base. His tip sharper, something distinctly between a wolf and a man, changing with form, but never truly either of the two. His fingers felt the bit of slick slipping from the seam just under James' balls and he couldn't bother waiting.

He pushed his hand down, thumb along the folds and into the space to open up the secret treasure. Just as beautiful, like a ruffled flower glistening, rosy pink against creamy flesh. He lined himself up. His own precum mixing with the wetness of James' folds, the very tip dipping into the entrance, finding purchase.

He thrust in.

Buried to the hilt. The heat near burning around him in the best way, deliciously _wet_, bare around his cock. Barely holding back by the sharp mewl that had escaped James, or the following whimper. Soft and _tight_, already fluttering, trying to swallow him deeper while James' own dick made a mess of the shirt he wore, hardly touched.... _His little Fae orgasming just from Steve having entered him..._

He silenced the sounds escaping him by sealing their mouths again. Looping both of his arms under thick and soft thighs and spreading them. Thrusting deep. Demanding. Almost harshly. Fully reminding himself what the little Faerie's walls felt like. _God, it had been too long._

A rough bite on his neck, tugging the skin as he pressed him further into the wall, made him gasp. In. A near slam. Or pound. The thud clearly heard against the wall. The hair no doubt tickling the folds in each press. His scrotum seemingly trying to join his cock _inside_ of James. The sound of wet flesh hitting only dampened by the disheveled clothes they still wore. Out. An almost suctioned feeling down to the very tip. As if bidding goodbye, his pussy giving a gentle kiss to the head of Steve's penis, begging him not to go just before he'd push back in. Feeling the same slick, warm channel down to the deepest point. A vice grip around him. The innermost part of it lovingly hugging the tip.

It seemed different now. A bit blocked somehow. Something of a reminder to not be too rough, to be gentler. Though he couldn't say why. He followed the instinct as best he could, as _desperate_ as he was.

His body kept demanding _more_.

Bucky could have expected this. He was overwhelmed. Shuddering as wave after wave of unending pleasure hit him. As Steve fucked him from one orgasm straight into the next. As his body could barely cope with the Wolf's frantic _chase_. Bodies sweating, soaking into their clothes, hastily loosened, every slick slide, no space, no _nerve_, left untouched. His breaths quickly falling into that short, huffed pattern. Barely able to breathe. Moans dragged out between each kiss. He was a mess down there, he knew that.

Could practically _hear _it.

A purely vulgar sound filling the room. Only seeming to grow in its indecency with his cunt _drooling_ for Steve, making this easier for him. He _heard_ the drops of his own slick that had dipped onto the polished floors. _Le Fae, _he was so _wet_ for him. That hadn't stopped. It never did.

It only built up and with the pregnancy—...

Another orgasm hit him and another moan escaped.

_He'd become such a slut..._

Part of him shameful for it. And the other...

_'Only for Stevie~.'_

He felt the thrusts get faster, the rhythm pounded into the wall. Quick, even thumps. Some part of him _still_ holding back.

_Bucky wanted him to let loose but..._

But he could sense something different from the Wolf. A deep concern. _Maybe about the baby?_

It seemed to be more than that. And Bucky couldn't get a word out, barely make firm motions with himself. Barely handle this as it was. Tears welling and immediately bubbling over. Another kiss as he felt the next one, and Steve giving three slow pumps before stilling inside of him. Each pulse from his dick matching a twitched clench with Bucky's pussy. Still feeling his heart pounding. Not the slightest bit of softening, he felt Steve's cum drip out of him, a heavy load, spilling more than just a few small drops on the floor. Panted breaths from both of them as blue eyes stared back in concern.

“_Jamie?_”

He was worried. Bucky could only kiss him. Steve carried him a bit of a distance. If he'd been trying to make it to his bed, they didn't quite make it. The Wolf needing more, and losing himself in Bucky down one of the corridors. Having no qualms in taking him again on the floor. Draped over his back, holding his waist firmly. Mouthing at the mark with much shorter, rougher thrusts that still filled him to the brim... _It reminded Bucky of the full moon..._ And through each kiss, thrust, orgasm... Bucky couldn't find a reason to object.

At some point, they managed. Made it back to the bed. Removed every piece of clothing. _Made a mess along the way._ Bucky always lost count of how many times Steve made him cum, but he remembered each movement. Every position the Wolf took him in.

He remembered hands under his knee pits, body curled against Steve's, feeling thick muscle and hair against his back. His body committing to the seemingly impossible feat right in his line of view. Taking in Steve, swallowing up his cock every time, feeling it stretch him and watching it disappear.

He remembered being held down on all fours. Pressed firmly into the bed. Growls escaping Steve as Bucky's wrists were held down. Almost reminiscent of the first night.

_And the node at the base forming..._

He remembered his hands held together above his head. Slow thrusts savoring each slide he _still_ couldn't cope with. Feeling trapped and wanting it all the same. He remembered his legs brought up over those broad shoulders. Nearly folded in half. Toes curling and still not enough. He remembered his legs being spread. Pushed apart as his hips were raised, the final thrusts deepening. Quick, sharp, needy. _His knot growing._

Bucky's strength had left him a long time ago. He could see Steve struggling. Wanting to chase this as much as he could. The worry on his face at what he was about to do. What he could do. What he needed to. What he assumed he shouldn't. _Always so considerate._

Bucky did what he could. What he wanted. What he knew Steve needed. Wrapping his legs tighter around that trim waist, pulling him close for the final thrust and keeping him there. Toes curling as the last orgasm hit him, his own cock spilling weakly between them. As he felt the pulse, the last of Steve's cum shot inside him, and the _knot_ lock in place.

It hurt a bit, but it felt good. His body maybe not as used to it as he would like. The Fae don't normally take knots. They weren't one of the species that had them. They weren't a species that even had Alphas, normally. But he'd always known, had always wanted to. Steve was his mate, his bonded, his beloved... And it felt good to be conscious for once while taking it. Clenching tightly around it and seeing the way his body was able to affect Steve...

He seemed worried for a moment, but Bucky only reassured him pulling him down for another kiss. Blue eyes softening and staring back at him. Both of their breaths finally calming, finally settling.

They didn't speak...

And it went down faster than Bucky would have hoped. Maybe slower than Steve had hoped. Only pausing for a moment as he pulled away and simply sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from him. Bucky could feel the cum still dripping from his cunt, sliding out even. Along his thighs. A bit of it was pooling on the blanket in a small spot. The aftershocks still with him. Another twitch, and more spilled out. _Le Fae..._

It was so much... if Steve hadn't already been successful 3 moons ago...

_'Tell him...'_

He closed his eyes. Taking another breath. Barely a whisper.

“_I'm pregnant..._”

The way the Wolf tensed up, the look he got back. Brows furrowed in sudden worry. It was something Bucky could have expected. His face calmed to something passive as his gaze trailed over Bucky. He exhaled slowly, turning away. But Bucky could see his jaw clench. He was upset.

It wasn't happy news. Not right now. Not after all those years for Steve to not remember him... and nothing like they'd imagined.

Bucky knew full well what he'd done. What was running through that mind. They'd spent such a large portion of their time having unprotected sex, it could only be expected. _Considering_. But it had likely been the last thing on the forefront of Steve's mind just now. _And that first night..._

Some part of him had probably known. Which just made it more believable. _Bucky could only hope..._ He knew full well just how manipulative this was, choosing this moment.

_But he needed Steve on his side, to stand by him..._

It was a long while before he spoke.

“Did you know this could happen?”

It was a logical question. Considering their species, considering the _bond._ And yet somehow more painful than Bucky could have imagined. The truth falling from his lips as easily as the tears started welling.

“_It wasn't supposed to..._”

_Not like this..._

And in either of their minds, before he'd known...

Steve said nothing for another long while. When he finally moved, only picking up his pants from the floor to put them back on, getting up to leave and quietly closing the door. He wasn't sure why he paused to listen. He knew what was bound to happen. From the expression he could see on him... Fear, worry... from what he could no doubt sense in Steve. Frustration. _Anger_. Likely assuming it was... directed at him. He didn't deserve that. But when Steve heard the small sounds coming from the room, stifled cries and sniffs, he could only close his eyes. Caught by the guilt and knowing he had no right to be by Jamie's side.

_He really was such a fuck up, wasn't he...?_

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really *really* wonder what that little bunny might be~...
> 
> could i POSSIBLY.
> 
> be forgeting...
> 
> ANYTHING else?
> 
> nuo?
> 
> nuo, i don't think so...
> 
> ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> <3<3<3


	14. Tread Lightly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve feels guilty...
> 
> Bucky knows healing him won't be simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd make a particularly shitty human being...
> 
> but, oh how i enjoy being the pettiest of demons~<3
> 
> i just couldn't resist, but i'm getting distracted again, feed me~<3<3<3
> 
> . . .
> 
> i hate number sequencing...

.oOo.

It took some time for Steve to calm down. He'd waited, listening for when James might stop crying. It was some time before he did, checking once he had. Seeing he'd cried himself to sleep. The wrap on his foot loose and the bruise showing through. Steve let him sleep.

He distracted himself. Cleaning up the messes they'd made, himself, the clothes they'd made a trail with.

_Pregnant..._

He hadn't thought of it... or... he had, but not _quite_ in the way he should have. Aware that it could happen. Ignoring the possibility. _A darker part of him **wanting** it to happen..._

But it wasn't quite as simple as that. The bond had faded, right? It had to, and it must've been gone by now to be replaced with the new one. For him to fully recognize James as his _mate_. He felt guilty. He'd stopped thinking of _Bucky. _He'd stopped trying to. The similarities just made it painful. The terrible desire to _project_ everything that he'd been on James... that wasn't fair to him. He still sometimes had trouble discerning which memories were real.

_He knew it was impossible, if there was any part of his memories drilled into his mind—._

When James got here, when they'd shared a bed... he started _remembering_. Part of... what he'd _hoped _for, for so long, seemingly breaking through. But it always felt like something was _blocking_ him, somehow.

But now he'd gone and done something that could damn well get the poor kid killed. It was likely he still didn't know exactly _what_ was inside of his womb. What he'd very likely _have_ to give birth to... Control... wasn't something Steve had anymore. And he could feel the Wolf in him buzzing, goosebumps on his skin and every hair stiff, every muscle tense as he tried to reign it in and breathe.

_There was a part of him that wouldn't **tolerate** any harm to the **pup**..._

The same part of him... hadn't tolerated James being hurt either. It made sense when he thought about it... depending on how long... _depending on..._

He took a breath as he saw _Grant_ hop into his line of vision.

The bunny stared at him.

He still didn't know why James had insisted on keeping the damned thing. But he supposed... maybe part of him could understand why he would have wanted to save it. As... small and _young_ as it was.

He sighed, walking over and crouching down to get closer. It didn't even react, it wasn't afraid or—... he flinched when Steve reached a hand out, but even then, he couldn't scent any fear on the animal. From stupidity or bravery, Steve couldn't tell. He wasn't used to the feeling. Most animals were afraid of him, regardless of what they were. If a bunny caught wind of him, there was a high chance he'd never get to see it, but he'd scent the lingering stress and fear it left behind.

But Sharon had said... she talked about him like he wasn't a normal one...

His brows furrowed as Grant suddenly moved closer. He had that look in his eyes, Steve _knew_ that look, frowning back at him as if daring him to try it. The bunny only paused for a moment before sinking his small teeth into Steve's finger. _Hard_.

Steve winced. He normally pulled away the instant the little fucker did this, but some part of him told him not to. And it felt—... _weird_... not like he was taking blood. Though Steve had heard his fair share of rumors about animals somehow catching Vampirism, he knew what it felt like to have blood leave his body in any sense. He'd become hypersensitive to it. No, this was different. This was—.

“_You'd better catch me if I fall.”_

“_You know I'd never let you fall...”_

_He remembered that face, those eyes... that smile..._

“_Let me see them...”_

“_N-no... Steve, please—.”_

“_Buck...”_

_Tattered. Ripped away. The mirrored frames like fractured, broken glass. The blue in them faded to grey, dull and colorless, not a spark of magic left._

“_Bucky, look at me...”_

_Tears. Familiar cries. He always hated seeing this, his mate hurt, and now... **Now...**_

_He pulled him in, holding him close. Suddenly desperate to see him, to kiss him. To comfort him and make the tears stop. Wiping them away as he looked into those same eyes, his magic faded... even there... they'd siphoned everything from him..._

“_This doesn't change anything between us, you understand me? Hydra's gonna pay for what they've done.”_

“_Steve—.”_

_The chill of the cold was harsh. Unforgiving with the wind, the open railcar, the running train._

“_**Buck—Bucky, it's gonna be okay, I got you. Just take my hand, take my—.**”_

_They both heard the creak._

“_**Stevie...**”_

_Falli—_.

Steve pulled his hand away abruptly. The flashes in his mind stopping. Suddenly irate. And not knowing where to direct it, _though there certainly was a place it went._ He barely caught a glimpse of whatever it was the bunny had been... _absorbing_ from him. But one thing stood firm.

_Clarity._

If there was _one_ thing that had stuck in his mind, _one_ moment haunting him that he couldn't _ever_ erase, whether he'd remembered his face or name. It was a truth burned into his mind like a brand. Reminding him that he'd _failed. _Reminding him... _that he was gone..._

Those memories. There was no haze. No fog. No confusion or possibility they might be fabricated. No question. They were real.

_And he could only wish they weren't._

.oOo.

Steve wasn't sure how much longer he'd been able to distract himself after—... he tried not to think about it. But it wasn't until he heard a strange grating noise that he bothered going near the door to his room.

As he got closer, he had suspicions of what it might be. Sure enough. That tiny asshole was scratching at the door. Stopping when Steve had come into view. Staring up at him as he walked over. He didn't know what this thing's game was, but the two of them were _not_ friends. He'd been nothing but trouble from the start. And he only continued to stare for a moment, seeming to sniff the air. He'd gone after Steve's finger when he pulled it away too...

This time, he just seemed interested in the door. Turning and scratching again, not even bothering to hide it in front of him. Steve opened the door and let him fall over. Just before he heard James.

_Vomiting._ Again...

He almost rushed in but paused. _There was a reason for it, wasn't there... and Steve knew what it was now._

Grant ran in towards James after he'd picked himself up. He seemed a bit distressed, maybe sensing what was happening but Steve went to quickly fetch a glass of water for James. Pausing and then adding a bit of lemon. He came back, setting it down and helping him hold back his hair as he continued throwing up everything he'd eaten... when he finally finished, handing him the glass.

James used it to rinse his mouth, spitting out a bit, then took small sips.

Neither had words to say. Not as James rubbed his stomach and rested his hand there gently, not as Grant tried to get his attention, not as Steve could only watch before giving him a bit of space. Knowing there was more to clean up.

He heard the flush and then the water running after a moment. Could figure that James might want to run a bath to clean himself. Steve figured he should change, and change the sheets. Lay out some clothes for him...

He was standing there, naked, by the time James finished his bath and came out. Towel wrapped around the bunny. Steve turned around to see him, the slight surprise and familiar blush on him. _Nothing_ either hadn't seen before, but the feeling lingering wasn't _quite_ the same. The two of them were only able to stare for a moment. Steve finally broke the silence.

“I laid out some clothes for you, should be comfortable.”

James nodded, setting the bunny down and drying him off very quickly before setting the towel aside.

Steve couldn't stop himself from glancing at him.

He'd known James was beautiful. He'd thought so from day one and was reminded of the fact _every _day. Maybe part of him had some sort of biased preference. But he'd also... softened. Even as he put on the underwear. A pretty pair with slight transparency. Faeries tended to like pretty things and James hadn't been an exception... It would've hugged his ass to start, but the way it did highlighted just a little bit of the weight he'd gained. Squeezing his skin just so in a way that might have been too enticing. He seemed to notice Steve looking and the blush just made Steve feel worse for leering. He might've been a little self conscious about it... He'd been thinner the first night. Light but clear muscle on him, but he'd been weak. _Abused._

And Steve had fucked him anyway. Selfishly convincing himself it was the only option. Until there was a reason for him not to leave. _And now..._

He'd only gone from one cage to the next. Something prettier. With a different predator looming over him.

At least _Hydra_ was plainly _honest_.

“I'm sorry...”

The sudden furrow in his brows and worry on him made Steve wince. The water already welling up in those same eyes. Steve had noticed how much he cried, how the number of times he did had increased. James had so many reasons to cry, he hadn't thought much of it at first. He hated being one of those reasons... And now he _knew_ he was one. James tried to wipe them away before they fell.

“_N—... that's not—..._”

Steve rushed over, having him sit down on the bed again. Helping him finish putting on the clothes. Then taking a look at James' injured foot. The cut had healed. But bruises were mottled and deeper in almost odd colors. Like they'd been trying to heal but couldn't. It had only been a week, but in that week, he'd been distant, and in that distance, Steve hadn't been paying enough attention, letting him make it worse without noticing.

“You keep walking on it, it's not gonna heal right.”

“... It's only bruised...”

“Looks that way, I'm betting it's more than that.”

Steve got up, going to get the same salve from before. Rubbing a bit into the skin as James was trying not to pull his foot away and make a sound at every press of the bruise. When he was finished, there was visible improvement. To be expected of something with magic in it. He made sure to wrap it more firmly before having him test how it felt to stand on, in case he had to.

“_Ow..._”

“Is it bad, should I splint it?”

“_N-no... _it's... fine... that was... _my hips are... um..._”

“O-_oh..._ _Sorry..._”

He only blushed and shook his head. Steve helped him back onto the bed, pausing as he looked at him. Not able to help where his gaze drifted.

He could even scent it.

Sweet. Milky. Like peaches and cream. _A softer hint of roses..._

Part of him wanted to pin James down and bury himself in it. But he...

“How long have you known?”

“... It took 3 full moons to restore my magic entirely... and the last one...I—...”

He cut himself off, but Steve could guess. Only a week. It explained the distance from then, but not before. And the vomiting...

“You know how far along?”

In this, his answer was hesitant. Worried. Tears welling up again. Steve had to hold his breath.

“_I-it's not fair of you... to blame yourself. Please don't..._”

Steve tensed his jaw. Thing was, in this, he knew _exactly_ what he'd done. He'd made a _choice._ Actively _ignoring_ consequences. Ignoring the signs. Simply _taking_ what was in front of him when he'd _known_ there were damn better options for this kid. He'd been a selfish bastard. With what excuse? That he _wasn't the man he used to be?_

_Unlikelihood_ certainly wasn't one.

“Jamie...”

More tears.

“How long have you had morning sickness?”

“... _About a month..._”

Which meant he'd been hiding it from Steve. So maybe that first time, the second moon... he'd have to have been at least one full moon cycle. _The baby likely conceived on that very first night._

Breeding one of the Fae unintentionally or without the individual's desire was... _difficult. _At best. Fae's magic has a way of protecting them and recognizing what should and shouldn't be in their bodies. Enough that many believed Faeries _cannot_ fall pregnant or give birth unless they are truly in love... The bonds they form complete the circle, giving some version of truth to the idea. Even if more complex than that alone. A couple that's preformed a Fae's Handfasting... has chosen to unify their very _lives_, to dedicate themselves to each other, and to shut out all others in this way... A strong bond _must **already** be there_ before the Ceremony is performed. Because if something goes wrong... it can kill them both. Dangerous to preform, and near impossible to break.

Steve remembered having that bond with _Bucky._ He thought he'd die with him. Many Fae couples did. If not right away, then one partner dying would often cause the other to follow shortly after. In some cases, slowly withering away, normally due to a weakened bond. The only exception being a loosened link. One partner _letting go_ to save the other. This was said to be the only _easy_ way to break the bond. And even then, it could take years. It would become a phantom version of itself and fade over time.

Steve could have assumed Bucky would have done that. But when he broke out of the ice, he'd _known_ that wasn't the case. For a while, he had hoped that it would kill him. Desperately. A _delusional_ part of him could have believed his mate was alive, but he—... he hadn't wanted to live in a world without Bucky. He blamed the serum for the delay. And then himself for not being the right species. For not completing the bond from his side, in his way. For the bond being too _weak_ to kill him.

Peggy had helped him. Insisted, it had to have been Bucky's choice. That he'd _let go_ so Steve could start anew. That maybe the serum had caused a delay. And when it started fading, he believed her. But it never truly faded. Even after _70 _years... even when she tried to... help it along. _Set him free. _Maybe because he didn't want it to. Maybe that was what backfired.

It just grew numb.

Steve took a step back, slowly exhaling through his nose. He turned to grab a set of clean clothes from the dresser for himself.

“So you've been hiding that from me...”

“_I_—... I didn't want you to worry...”

“I worry when you don't tell me things, Jamie. You're _sick_. You can't keep food down, and you're carrying a—.”

_Wolf pup._

He couldn't say. He couldn't even begin to iterate just how much of a detriment this could be to the Faerie. Wolves didn't tend to mix with other species. Because _most_ of them weren't _strong_ enough to carry a pup to term. His own mother barely managed with heavy care and supervision, and he'd been a poor excuse for his lineage, even born prematurely. They blamed her... even if they'd _known_, even if _Steve_ was the reason their own Queen had grown so weak.

There hadn't been a day she regret making the choice to have him, and she made sure to tell him _every_ time. But there wasn't a day that went by where he couldn't wonder if she might've lived just a _little_ bit longer, if he'd been weaker, or born just a little more like her...

And he'd wanted this. Just as selfishly with Bucky... Maybe such a weak Wolf with a strong Faerie wouldn't have caused him so much trouble. One of the _Le Fae_ bloodline, no less. But even after the serum, when Bucky had lost his magic, _his wings_, when there was no telling what _could_ have happened because of it, Steve only wanted it _more._ Ignoring any thoughts about how it might hurt him, or even _kill _him. Empty promises and hope... For after the war. After they went home... He'd seemed to want it just as bad then... Steve could have _sent_ Bucky home.

Suffice to say, the reason he _didn't_ had almost _nothing_ to do with Bucky wanting to stay by his side in the fight, when Steve only wanted him _safe_.

He knew what the real reason was.

_Maybe Bucky had been better off without him._

“I'm _not_ sick, I'm _pregnant_. I'm still gaining weight and I'm—I'm _managing. You've helped me..._”

“Really? Because last I checked, the Fae weren't _supposed_ to get morning sickness, is that right? Sounds more to me like I've _caused_ it.”

The guilty expression on his face hurt to see. He tried to avoid Steve's gaze. No. _Not normally, not within his own species._ And rare even outside of it.

“Not... _that's not_... it's _not_ your fault. Hydra—_Hydra_ _experimented on me, they broke me down, they took my magic... I don't know what else they planned and I—I should have known better—._”

“Because you would've known some _stranger_ in the woods would choose to _fuck_ you _raw_ as some sort of payment to give you shelter.”

“_You're not a stranger—._”

“_**Jamie—.**_”

“_**I made that choice! I**_**—**... I made that choice... _I _made the offer... _I let you..._ I don't regret it. You can't _make_ me regret choosing _you_ over _Hydra._..”

_No, of course not..._

James had curled in on himself. Steve's expression softening before he finished up buttoning his flannel and rolled up the sleeves, held with another button. Just in case he could get any more work into the last few hours of the day. _They'd really used up a lot of them..._

“You were desperate...”

James looked up at him.

“Desperation can't control us... just influence what we might do... If that influence meant choosing you, I think I would've taken my chances _anyway_...”

Steve paused for a moment. It felt like what he wanted to hear. But he knew this still wasn't fair to James. He knew he deserved so much better...

“I just—... _I don't wanna be the reason you keep getting __**hurt—**__._”

“_You haven't hurt me..._”

_You never do..._

_'He blames himself...'_

_'But it was never his fault.'_

And in truth, he hadn't. Nothing that happened was his fault. He still didn't remember Bucky but he _still _blamed himself. It only had him wondering what his reaction to the truth would be. On top of not _knowing _what spells she used or what kind of damage she might have done... Steve was on the verge of breaking down and Bucky could see that. He'd come here, following the directions his sprites had managed to give him, weak as they were, and he'd only been able to think about saving himself. He'd never imagined... _finding **Steve**_. Or even without knowing him, just how much he'd need it too... He'd lost _who_ he was because of her...

And there was no easy way to help him...

“_Are you mad at me?_”

“**No—**_no... I'm so sorry, Jamie... I never meant—... _I'm worried. That I might be... keeping you from something better... I _know _that I am... Seems like you were only given some pretty shitty options to choose from...”

“_Maybe._.. still my right to choose... and I did choose to keep having sex with you.”

Steve seemed stunned by the words, tensing up for a moment. Seemingly trying to hold it in, but they actually got him to huff a small laugh. Bucky couldn't help giving a small smile back. But it seemed like that finally made him let go of his own emotions, at least in some sense. Laughs and tears he couldn't hold in and probably felt guilty for... but needed to let out. Bucky was happy to support him. Even through the mutter.

“_Fuckin' stubborn..._”

_'He's one to talk.'_

_For once, he could agree with the sprites. _Bucky kissed him as he calmed down. Chaste, simple. He still wasn't sure how Steve's bloodline might affect the baby, or just the pregnancy... even the serum... But he knew that even without _knowing _him, remembering... Steve still somehow... He only wanted what was best for him... what would make him happy... Even if he couldn't be a part of that.

“You hungry...? I mean... I figured...”

“I should probably eat...”

“Yeah. That...”

Bucky moved to set his feet on the floor so he could walk. Steve didn't let him. Picking him up the moment one of his toes touched the rug.

“Shouldn't walk on your injury.”

Bucky could only stare for a moment in disbelief. And to be fair, he really _shouldn't _have been surprised. But part of him had been so _damn_ happy, he just couldn't help himself.

“You know, you're _really_ one to talk, _Steve._”

Steve could only look at him like a confused puppy.

Because of course he fucking would.

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aww~ look! they progressed<3 they fell a bit into their old selves~<3<3<3
> 
> such a smidgen of... fluff... how did that get there... *squints*
> 
> i love how literally no one has been able to guess *why* steeb *can't* seem to connect those dots... apart from denial bitch cause damn that boy, you know he's fuckin' stubborn...
> 
> it's a number of reasons, but.
> 
> bucky boo knows~<3 bunny knows too, i wonder... what he feeds on~ ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> lol, but let's be fair, these boys need HALP (just like i do, give me some attention bitches, IT HELPS INSPIRE ME SO I CAN KEEP WRITING MAH GODDAMN STORIES AND ENTERTAINING THE FUCK OUTTA Y'ALL)
> 
> i think it's time they got some...
> 
> . . .
> 
> papa Logan to the rescue~<3
> 
> :O
> 
> ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))


	15. Shared Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky never realized just how strong their bond was.
> 
> Steve's always felt it without even knowing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why hillooooo~ what's this doin' here~<3<3<3
> 
> oh, well what the fuck have i been up too? mostly being a lazy shit, the usual, you know... needing some damn inspiration...
> 
> *sigh*
> 
> my fryyyn came up with another theory.
> 
> it's dark.
> 
> and i legitimately love her~ check it out, cause she even went into some serious endgame critique and holy shit, all i can say is she beat me to it~ (yes, i am still ploooooooootttting~ on that very much necessary critique fic<3)
> 
> [Peggy Carter Madame Hydra Confirmed~.](https://www.reddit.com/r/FanTheories/comments/fedvno/dark_endgame_theory_mcu_peggy_carter_was_madame/)
> 
> seriously, go check that out, she made some good points and put a marvelous~ idea out there that is about 12 million times more satisfying than endgame, with a goddamn horror twist that just had me like... HHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG~<3<3<3 AND THE SHEER INSPIRATION AND COINCID--OOP!
> 
> ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> i could not love this thing moar if i tried, and i loved her other one~<3 and if you wanna support her and send her some love, please do cause like... i wanna see that goddamn fan comic! (selfish bitch here) but she's also told me she's been feelin' kinda down lately and she really is just so sweet and could use some love and inspiration~<3
> 
> speaking of~
> 
> y'all know *I* could always use some fucking attention... cause I'm a goddamn whore. that never changes...
> 
> but aside from all that, just a fair warning for this chapter if you didn't see my tag updates. there is a reference to fairly underage literal morons basically doing things they REALLY shouldn't...
> 
> LITERAL. MORONS.
> 
> but nothing graphic, beyond anything like 'they made a mess' (i mean that literally, that is the most graphic description of what happens pretty much verbatim) BECAUSE:
> 
> i'm... not into that?
> 
> and if you're looking for it, please move along? 
> 
> please?
> 
> closest i'll ever get beyond loose references for 'underage' is probably coming of age characters that are closer to entering adulthood, and even then i prefer fantasy settings where that 'coming of age' is like 300 or some shit~<3 a little bit like the 'in love & war' series, have i plugged in enough shit for my trashy self on that yet~?
> 
> but i realize how... uncomfortable, given implications, age as a topic with smut can be... i considered putting some good old fashioned adult smuts in, but decided against it in the end (didn't feel so tasteful with the previous mention, which is ironic because i'm a tasteless piece of garbage~<3) so why the references to literal underage morons doing stupid shit they're not supposed to do?
> 
> ooh~
> 
> OHHHHH~<3<3<3
> 
> various plot points for one, but mostly the second hand embarrassment and worry i wanted to give my dear readers, and inappropriate humor which... y'all know i love SOOOO much~
> 
> i also couldn't throw in our dearly beloved *savior* who stops the literal idiots from going any further the particular way i wanted to without the conflict at hand (honestly, he doesn't get there soon enough, but i also needed them to be in *some* degree of trouble~)
> 
> and of course... to further torment these poor idiots with their own extreme embarrassment~<3<3<3 (but also give them super sweet if truly idiotic memories), but i also kinda wanted to challenge myself a bit with conveying certain themes properly, so this did end up a bit challenging
> 
> for reference though, your thought process should go a little something like this~:
> 
> 'oh no...'
> 
> 'OH no.'
> 
> 'steeeeeeeeb.'
> 
> 'STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEB!!'
> 
> 'FOR THE LOVE OF, WHERE IS SOME GODDAMN ADULT SUPERVISION WHEN YOU NEED IT?!'
> 
> and finally~
> 
> 'HALLELUJAH!'
> 
> it should ultimately make you wanna pull steeb's adorable little wolfie ears~<3<3<3
> 
> also maybe be a public service announcement to maybe *not* keep children that are literal idiots so incredibly sheltered and in the dark that they may make mistakes like this, cause apparently that's a fucking issue nowadays??? (seriously, SERIOUSLY)
> 
> give them 'the talk'. and fucking horrify them. just like Logan would~<3 (honestly? worked as well as it needed to for the first 70 years~)
> 
> cause that's what the little bastards deserve<3<3<3
> 
> ohh bucky boo, your young self was so *painfully* innocent... and a TERRIBLY unreliable narrator...
> 
> ... k, think that's all... for now~<3 enjoy the second hand embarrassment you fuckers ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

.oOo.

_Bucky runs._

_He knows he's being naughty. But he can't help but be excited. And nervous. The Elders might notice. And if they get caught, they'll be stopped. But he knows... he just _ **knows ** _that him and Steve are meant to do this. To be together. And stay together forever..._

_He's 13. Stevie's 12._

_They're both old enough to know what they want._

_That's what the cord's for. Silky, soft and imbued with powerful magic. The one he has isn't so pretty. He stole pieces of 'em, bit by bit. Mostly the plainer ones. All of 'em are pretty but he hopes the missing scraps that made this one will go unnoticed. He even read up on the spells so he knows what to do._

_He knows Stevie's excited too._

_He runs into the Wolf when he finally makes it through the foliage and to the garden. They tumble together, laughing. White roses all around them... Steve's Ma loves them. Pretty and pure. Just like her. Bucky takes Steve's hand and they run into the forest. Tumbling again into the Fae's Circle he's set up. The Wolf pins him down and Bucky can't help but smile up at him. His nice clothes already roughed up, his hair outta place, but his tail's wagging, and pretty soon, nothin's gonna be able to separate them._

_Aside from that, he's still bigger 'en him. Steve's still small n' cute. Maybe not as much as before. But Bucky loves that about him. He hopes he'll stay that way forever too..._

“_Dija get it?”_

_Bucky sits up and holds up the cord triumphantly. Steve's in awe, just like he is with about any kinda Faerie thing._

_He smiles but can't help the blush._

“_It's not... that pretty, I don't think... but... I made it... from the scraps? And it should work! Just... thought they wouldn't notice that way...”_

Just like him...

“_I think it's beautiful, Buck! I'll bet you got the **best** one!”_

_Bucky snorts at Steve's enthusiasm, and hides his blush. Immediately his tail stops wagging and there's a deadpan on his face. But Bucky can't help himself, the cheery pup he's grown to love will _always_ be there, he's sure of it!_

“_Pfffh, You're such a dork!”_

“_Jerk.”_

“_Punk.”_

_They both laugh for a minute more before it dies down, and the nervousness fizzles in. His hands even shaking as he's trying to tie the cord._

“_Over... and under... um...”_

“_Buck, you remember how to—.”_

“_I know how to tie it! I just... m'nervous...”_

_Steve only smiles back at him. Bucky almost wants to hit him before he hears what he says..._

“_S'okay, I am too, Buck... But after this, we'll always be together, right?”_

_Bucky hits him anyway to keep his eyes from watering._

“_Sap.”_

“_But I'll be your sap~.”_

_He can't help the smile coming back. And this time, he's got the tie right. Looped and holding their hands together. He takes a deep breath before starting on the spell. But when Steve starts smiling, he can't help the blush._

“_Shut up! My Breton's not that good...”_

_Not as much as the Elders want it to be. Shoot, he has to start over now._

“_Cause you hardly practice it! But it's pretty, Buck~.”_

“_Liar... at least you speak perfect Gaelic.”_

_Steve smirks before his eyes look up at Bucky._

“_Maybe I can help you?”_

_Bucky sighs, but calmly states the words he's using and what they mean, without channeling his magic so Steve can know 'em. Then he lets his sprites free, he has two now. He takes another deep breath as they start. The languages are different, but what he read says the spells'll work better if they speak together, from their most native tongues. The languages in their blood. The lines for the Fae are foggier, especially since each Frollick and Court seemed to get smaller before they combined their numbers, but the Elders told him the Le Fae bloodline hailed from Breton Faeries. Steve descends from Irish Celtic Wolves._

_They speak. Chant. And they can feel the magic. See the glowing in the circle. Steve looks at him and he can't help smiling as they recite the spell. As the glow engulfs them just before feeling a rush of warmth and light flow through them. They're nervous and both their hearts beat too fast. Closing their eyes as they say the rest of the spell._

_The cord is gone when they look. Dissolved in the same light. Maybe a little confusing. But he read the spell... that means that it worked._

“_Did it work?”_

_Bucky can only pout. Before frowning..._

“_I mean... I think so? The book said that was supposed to happen...”_

“_I don't... feel any different.”_

“_Neither do I—... why ya lookin' at me like that?”_

_Steve only smiles, before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Bucky's. It feels weird and awkward. The press of their lips in a way that neither is used to. But there's something more. And they feel it. Warmth and _love_. Through the bond. It feels natural, if unpracticed. And it makes them both happy. Wanting more of the feeling._

_Bucky's still surprised when he pulls away. He can feel the heat on his cheeks._

“_Wha—... what was that for?”_

“_It seemed like the right thing to do.”_

“_What's that supposed to mean?”_

“_Well, we're married now, right?”_

_Oh yeah, they kinda were. He can't help but blush. Steve sniffs the air and Bucky notices a different feeling. This had happened a few times. The Elders had told him he was... maturing. And his special place..._

_Steve lights up of course. He's liked the scent the few times it's happened._

“_Bucky, you smell sweet!”_

_He tackles Bucky looking for it, tail wagging again. But he's just as sweet scenting his neck trying to find it. His nose tickling Bucky's skin. He can't help but laugh a bit._

“_H-hey! Stop that! _Stevie! _You—you're not gonna find it there!”_

_Steve does stop. And it honestly surprises Bucky._

“_Then... where will I find it?”_

_It's the simplicity of the words that makes Bucky blush. And he's not sure why he does what he does, but... they're married now. The Elders told him, if there's anyone he can show his special place to, it's the person he will love and share a bond with..._

_And that person... is Stevie._

_He hesitates, but lifts the silk of his skirt to show Steve. And the Wolf pup is surprised and confused but his curiosity is clear. Bucky can't stop himself from looking away, but he knows his face must be completely red. Steve scents the air and follows it to the source, and the next Bucky understands, a _strange_ sensation is starting to build. Quickly. And it—._

_He's not sure what happens, but it scares him and freaks out Steve. Who's suddenly worried as if he's hurt Bucky._

“_Bucky!? Are you okay? What happened?”_

_Bucky has to catch his breath from whatever it is, but he's confused and embarrassed, and he feels _weird._ Steve lingers close, staring with those same puppy eyes._

“_What did you do, Stevie...?”_

“_I—... wanted to...t-taste it...”_

“_You **licked** me!?”_

“_Only a little bit! M'sorry! Did it hurt you?”_

_Bucky takes a moment to think. Then shakes his head. It felt weird but he... he doesn't know how to describe what he felt. And he's not sure why he would've expected differently from Stevie, he's a stupid punk, _and_ a Wolf. But something doesn't feel right about getting angry at him for it, especially not when he—._

_Steve brushes against him, and they both feel it, as well as _see_ it._

“_Oh...”_

“_That's—.”_

“_M'sorry!”_

_Steve immediately tries to cover himself and Bucky can feel the flush heating up his whole body. Steve's blushing too now, but worse. Bucky only wants to help him though, they're both boys so he's in a similar state, but it doesn't show as much._

“_Stevie? It's okay...”_

_He helps him a bit, and they can both only stare for a long while. He's different from Bucky in more ways than one, and there's a long stretch of awkward silence between them only staring and not having any idea what to do. Stevie doesn't have a special place like Bucky. And it's intimidating—._

“_Can I stick it in?”_

_Bucky barely manages to shake his head this time. Almost stuttered and the disappointment on the pup's face is clear. But the Elders told him..._

“_There's _**no way**_ it'll fit! And that's...”_

_Steve tilts his head in confusion at Bucky stopping himself._

“That's how babies are made..._”_

_He wasn't ready for that. But Steve looks shocked! Startled and red before shaking his head._

“_That _can't_ be, Buck. There's no way—.”_

“_Yes way! The Elders told me so!”_

“_But that would mean... _but that'd mean—. Nuh-uh! _I don't believe that!”_

“_Yeah-huh! It's the truth—.”_

“_**Nuh-uh!**”_

“_**Yeah-**_**huh**_**!**__”_

_It goes on for a while, them arguing, before Steve seems genuinely distressed at the new found knowledge, tears welling in his eyes._

“_But that... it'd mean my Ma—.”_

_He stops 'em from fallin', but Bucky feels a bit ashamed. It's not what he wanted to happen, but now his best friend is hurtin'. And he feels that same hurt in his chest._

“_Stevie—? M-m'sorry, I didn't mean—...”_

“_Jerk...”_

_He says it but they still cuddle together. They end up helping each other somehow, and making a... _mess._ It's _weird_, and uncomfortable, and so many things they hadn't expected, but Steve says it's got a smell to it and they need to clean themselves up. They go to the river and do that. But it seems like no matter how well they manage, how soaked their clothes are, some part of the scent still lingers. Bucky doesn't know what to do, he can't smell it. But by the time they get back, if any other Wolves find them—._

_Steve stops._

“_Stevie?”_

“_Uh-oh...”_

_He _knows_ they're in trouble._

_Logan stares at the two kids that have been gone for hours. Soaking wet, they smell like the river... and—. Alarms go off in his head as he catches the other scents. Immediately walking up to the Wolf pup and baby Fae and turning them around to check their necks. But there's nothing _there_._

_No bites, on either of 'em. But they smell _mated_. __**Bonded**__. And _definitely _like they've been doin' somethin' they _**shouldn't**_. He frowns, but pauses, staring for a bit._

_He doesn't smell the coppery tone of Fae's blood, and he knows he would if—_fuck's sake_, what have these damn kids been up to?_

_At least they have the decency to smell ashamed. He turns 'em around to face him._

“_What have you little shits been up to?”_

_Their heads are down but they don't say a word. Tongue tied. Fuck. He knew they shoulda been watching them more—_**fuck**.

“_What, nothin' to say to me?”_

_They both only look up at him with big innocent eyes, like they're not two idiots on the cusp of puberty that _ **everyone ** _shoulda been paying more attention to. He only gives a slight growled huff before dragging their asses back to the castle. The Fae Elders have been looking for Bucky, extremely worried about him, and all of them might have a lot more reasons to worry if the two did what Logan thinks. They can tell how annoyed he is, and so can everyone else when he brings them back. The Elders immediately concerned over Bucky, and the Queen worrying about her pup._

_He still gets sick often, probably will with this._

_But Logan's pretty glad none of _them_ can smell it. Even if he might have to tell them anyway._

_He sees the kid watching his friend leave before the question is asked. His mother already having brought him in, and wrapping him in a warmed up towel while she gets him some soup._

“_Where do babies come from?”_

.oOo.

Bucky nearly startled awake. The sensation running through his body a reminder of the dream. And it had him _embarrassed_. Le Fae... they'd been so fucking _stupid_ then... Naive and so very _painfully __**sheltered**_.

The Ceremony could have killed them... And it certainly had some _effects_ they'd been too young to even consider. Or more like... blissfully unaware of. They'd just been so excited to _bond_, they didn't seem to care about anything else...

They didn't really start to feel the full weight of it until they'd been pulled apart... Every part of them, calling to the other, wanting them to be together...

Logan near catching them had scared them shitless, but... thinking back on it... it wasn't something Bucky could regret... it wasn't something he'd ever regret. Despite all the stupidity and embarrassment it caused, it was a memory he'd fully cherished, held dear and—.

A whimper. He glanced at Steve and saw him in a similar state from... the dream. His breathing patterns suggested a nightmare, but the blush on his cheeks and the... _morning wood _said something else. Bucky rubbed the sleep from his eyes before watching a moment to see if he got better. Calm for a moment. And then more whimpers and whines from him, just like a dog. Bucky nudged his shoulder, but it didn't seem to help, so he placed a hand on Steve's forehead to calmly rouse him from his sleep. He gave a slight growl that quickly settled before he glanced at Bucky with a guilty expression, glancing down, then looking completely ashamed of his own state.

Steve gave a sigh, letting his head fall back and covering his eyes.

“Steve?”

“Why did you wake me?”

“It didn't seem like... were you having a good dream?”

“**No—**_no... _I wasn't... just...”

“A nightmare?”

“Not... exactly...”

Bucky stayed quiet a moment...

“What were you dreaming about...?”

At this, Steve actually looked at him, giving a breath and answering. Though maybe not _fully_ wanting to.

“I uh... I was getting... _the 'talk'..._ from an old mentor of mine.”

Bucky's brows lifted in slight surprise. And then he realized something else. Steve... had told him he'd asked Logan regarding their argument that day to get an actual answer, way back when. And Logan had given one. Full detail. Downright traumatizing the poor pup. And then asking, repeatedly, if he'd done _anything_ along those lines with Bucky. There were times Logan had been terrifying _without_ even getting in trouble. Probably because he seemed to _know_ when they'd done something bad, even if they _thought _they'd gotten away with it. But because of the way he was, it actually helped keeping them _out_ of trouble. Getting reprimanded by the old Wolf Soldier had _never_ been fun.

Still, it meant—.

_Oh..._

_'You were Dream Sharing~.'_

_'Helping him remember.'_

_'Helping you remember.'_

_'The Bond is renewed!'_

_'Unraveling her spells~.'_

Even... subconsciously... It wasn't something Bucky had even thought about. He never considered their _bond_ would be strong enough on its own to... _to fight her_... He hardly considered his own magic a defense. The greatest one he had right now... _was Steve_. And if he lost that—...

He felt his eyes water and his heart flutter.

“I guess my mind is... Jamie? You okay?”

Bucky quickly nodded, moving himself in closer. Steve only held him with open arms, the both of them quiet a moment... blue eyes staring at him with calm wonder.

“Did you dream about anything...?”

Bucky looked back at him, staying quiet for a moment.

“My first time...”

It wasn't entirely the truth, but it wasn't entirely a lie either, depending on what a person might consider as something that 'counted'. They didn't realize the bond would desire a _consummation_ when they'd committed to each other and done the Ceremony. But they didn't actually have any penetrative sex until 2 years after the fact. Both still _stupidly_ young. But... both their species maturing a bit differently from Humans. With Steve... every full moon, _not_ being able to fully transform. They just got harder and harder for him. They hardly knew what they were doing then, but Bucky had wanted to give him some relief, if still a bit worried.

Steve's brows furrowed slightly in a bit of confusion.

“You're... I thought you said you'd never...”

Bucky's eyes widened, the message heard even without Steve finishing and warmth rushing to his cheeks.

“I never said I was a _virgin_...”

“But you bled the first time, when I—... uh...”

“Because I had never... not—... there... anyway... I didn't even really expect you to...”

“So then, who?”

“... I was in love with someone... before Hydra. We were... intimate, but I was always too scared, not ready to go that step. He respected that. You're a lot like him... in a lot of ways...”

And in so many ways... he was so different than he used to be...

“Oh...”

Steve glanced off and Bucky raised a brow. He seemed embarrassed, but some part of him almost seemed... _disappointed._ But why would he be—. When he pulled Bucky in, resting a hand over his stomach that seemed hesitant at first, but was warm and firmly placed once settled. It suddenly clicked.

_Oh, Le Fae._

_'He's jealous~.'_

The sprites were giggling and Bucky had to stop himself from laughing. Somehow, it didn't seem surprising. Steve had always been territorial, and if he was telling a similar story to his younger self that was somehow reversed, he knew that Steve would probably be jealous of himself too. As plainly silly as it was.

It was also cute.

After a moment, Steve sighed.

“How old were you then?”

“I—... we were both very young... and _painfully_ stubborn. We barely knew what we were getting into... but I don't regret it.”

“Did you love him?”

“Yes...”

“... Do you miss him?”

“... There's not a day that goes by I don't think about him...”

“... Do you still love him...?”

_With all my heart..._

Bucky couldn't help staring back at the Wolf's eyes. Calm, there was something more in them that Bucky hadn't seen the first nights he'd been here. Something hopeful... He wanted to tell him, but—. Before he could speak, they both heard the little scratches indicating Grant had woken up. Or was about to. When they glanced over, he was still sleeping on the cushion Steve had been willing to spare. And Bucky heard the immediate mildly annoyed sigh from him. Bucky couldn't help the soft smile this time before kissing Steve's cheek.

He also... still had morning wood.

In all honesty, Bucky had to admit he was a bit amazed by the way Wolves functioned. He'd had morning wood waking up from a dream before as well, but never so damn persistent. And if it was a wet dream, his body normally took him _all_ the way through the sensations. And he wasn't so sure what they _had_ dreamed about _counted._ He certainly... _didn't_ want to count it. If not for their youth, then simply the sheer _embarrassment _of it...

He didn't regret the fact that it happened, that didn't mean he didn't regret _how_ it happened. The novelty of the situation might be considered laughable even, fully at their expense of course.  
  


He couldn't help staring a moment more.

“Do you... want me to help you—?”

“_**N-no—**__no..._ no, that's...”

Steve seemed to think on his answer a moment before a guilty look passed his face, the same puppy expression.

“_Yes...?_”

And in that same moment, they both heard the sneeze from Grant. Before the bunny got up, rapidly hopping to the door and scratching at it. Indicating he needed to go out. Bucky only paused for a moment before hearing the defeated sigh from Steve, and seeing his brows furrow. Grant stopped staring back at them, before continuing to scratch on the door.

“Go, I don't want him making any messes.”

Bucky got up and picked up the bunny. Pausing for another minute as he turned to Steve.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah... go, I'll take care of it.”

.oOo.

The roses were turning white...

And a good part of them had gone from their deep, corrupted red to a dulled, pale peach, still covered in the leftover frost of the season. At least on one bush... He took a closer look at where Grant was, eating up the last of the _Morsus Aphididae_ that had been nesting in the corruption, spreading it and strengthening her magic. And Bucky wondered if he would have been able to notice them at all, if not for Grant.

The last one caught, and the defensive glow they spread finally stopping. Bucky could see the flowers fading back to their original state. Thankful... but still with so much sorrow.

“What is he doing?”

Bucky was almost startled, suddenly pulling Grant from his spot as he ate up the last bug. But Steve had stopped at the single, pure white rose among its paling family.

“I tried for so long to get them to... they were my Mother's... before they were mine... I never thought I'd see them this color again. How did you—... _what is he eating?_”

“Th-the aphids—_he wasn't hurting the roses. _Just... clearing the nest they'd made, much deeper in the thorns...”

“Rabbits don't eat aphids...”

_No... they don't..._

Bucky didn't respond.

Steve stayed quiet for a moment as he turned to Bucky. Reaching a hand out as if to see. Although Grant didn't seem to hesitate. Bucky could only wince as he heard the muttered words under Steve's breath, annoyed and wondering why he always did that, but taking him anyway, if holding him in a way to prevent it.

_'He's trying to help him...'_

If only it were that simple...

“Is there anything you want for breakfast?”

Bucky almost shook his head, but he could see the words written on Steve's face. If anything, knowing only made him worry more.

“Maybe... cream of wheat? Spiced with fruit, berries? Ginger tea...”

“You should get some protein in there too...”

“Bacon?”

Steve paused for a moment before leaning in and kissing Bucky's temple.

“Okay. Go 'head, get yourself cleaned up, I'll get it ready for you.”

Bucky gave a nod and went to do just that. Despite not liking Grant, he knew he'd be fine with Steve. And he was, quietly sitting by the fire, half asleep as Steve had set up everything on the table. He'd even chopped some strawberries for him...

The meal itself was quiet, as they tended to be. Even as Bucky added 4 large spoonfuls of sugar and the strawberries to his porridge. Before taking a quick bite of some of the crispy bacon on the side when he noticed Steve staring at him. He knew the Wolf was likely concerned about his protein intake. And he knew that for the baby...

He took a sip of his tea. The ginger strong, but softened with milk and dark brown sugar. He could taste a soft undertone of cinnamon.

Even if he changed so much, it was like he hadn't at all.

Then he seemed to notice something. Maybe that he didn't want Bucky to catch as he subtly scented the air. He didn't seem alarmed, so Bucky had to admit he was a bit surprised when they both heard the knock on the door.

“Wait here.”

Bucky did not. And neither did Grant. Only Steve had seemed to step outside to talk to whoever his guest might be. Peeking from the window seemed like a simpler option and he almost couldn't believe who he saw.

The same old double clawed bastard. Though with his hair shorter, the grey at his temples more pronounced, and his beard fuller. He seemed a bit older than the last Bucky had seen him, _though he supposed last time—..._

His breath hitched as he saw... what looked to be a 3 year old little girl, a pup by his side... Looking up at Steve with a similar set of eyes to the man she was beside. He was looking down after having lit a cigar, though Bucky couldn't quite catch the conversation. He heard the scratch at the window. The same eyes looking up and at him through the glass before widening in shock.

Bucky quickly moved to open the door, an almost desperate expression on his face, shaking his head before Logan could say anything. Though he was sure Steve had only seen the concern.

The cigar fell from his mouth at the same time Grant seemed to run around and sniff the little pup. She moved to pick up the cigar and hand it back to him, which was about the only thing to snap him out of staring at Bucky.

“Laura—...”

Logan took it, only to put it out on his skin and tense his jaw.

But he didn't say a word, and Bucky could only be thankful for it.

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so.
> 
> these fuckers have been married the whole goddamn time. i feel like i alluded to this but maybe not outright said it? it does seem to highlight their stupidity though, doesn't it~<3 although to be fair--... mmm~ i shouldn't say much so close to the final pieces falling into play~<3<3<3
> 
> i wonder just how papa Logan might help, literally papa Logan... and little Laura<3 ;))))))))))))
> 
> last call to guess what mythological critter little Grant might be<3 cause uh, papa logan has the answer to that too. and yes~ he's gonna make steeb feel like an idiot for it, but don't worry, i've taken liberties enough that you're all fine...
> 
> for now~<3
> 
> and his horns haven't come in yet~
> 
> i do wonder what logan's story might be, and where that pup might've come from~ ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> ah yes, and 'morsus' is latin for 'corrosion' or 'biting'~, aphididae just refers to the aphid families, nasty little bastards... consider this made up variety of the little shits... to be given a bit more detail later<3


	16. Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan speaks with Steve.
> 
> Logan speaks with Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh...
> 
> well... it's been fucking forever, right~?
> 
> so what's my bitch ass been up to? honestly? distracted as fuck. what else is new~?
> 
> but also~
> 
> went through a bit of a rough patch and when i say *rough*? no, i don't mean i caught the pangolin's revenge, stay safe out there by the way gais, but i mean my mind took a dive into the depths of serious fuckville that shant be described
> 
> and i'll be perfectly honest, it's still boiling over. could definitely use some inspiration~, but beyond that, if you'll notice the notes i added to the very beginning and very end of this fic (all fics, really), please. PLEASE. seriously click that link, because what happened is fucked, and i don't think it should just go by unnoticed. spread the word however you can
> 
> I think it's really important you gais are well informed and aware of this because it's just been swept under the rug, and holy fuck is it disgusting. just follow the link, yes, it is a *very* lengthy post, but it is *very* important and some more voices spreading the word would *really* help with this beyond what you could know
> 
> you can wait until after this chapter~, but just make sure you click it and let yourself know
> 
> also~... if you'd like to boost my motivation, some lovely attention is *always* welcome~<3<3<3
> 
> maybe i'll even get to next chapter much faster<3 ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> as... not always but sometimes... be prepared for some possibly poor fucking translations courtesy of that lovely mistress you all know i love so much~<3
> 
> It's mixed in so not like normal, but basically, logan's referring to 'claws' and 'shoes first'
> 
> enjoy~<3
> 
> oh for fuck's sake, of course i'm gonna forget shit... you all saw NOTHING.

.oOo.

“Griffes—uh... g-garras... garras? A—no, _no. Les chaussures d'abord—...*sigh*... _zapatos primero...”

She only stared at him innocently for a moment.

Logan took a breath.

“Laura...”

“Does she not speak French?”

“Z-zapatos? Laura. Uh... no, she doesn't. She's learning, so am I with the... but there's a bit of a language barrier. If my math isn't wrong, she was conceived while we were in Spain, but probably born in Mexico. Every time he thinks it's good for me to learn a new language, well...”

“There's more to it than that.”

“Yeah, but nothin' I'm gonna tell ya. Laura...”

She took off her shoes and then stared at her father. After another moment, he gave another breath and let his own claws out. Logan was the last of a lineage of French descended Lycans with a rare genetic mutation. A second set of claws, extremely sharp, curved behind the natural set on their fingers, retractable and extending from between the knuckles for an often deadly surprise. This set apart from heightened senses and healing factor comparative to a normal Wolf's.

_Was_.

Most if not all of his children shared those same traits with him. And...

She matched Logan suddenly, 2 claws instead of the average 3 on each hand. _Metal... like Logan's... like—. _And 1 on each bare, tiny foot.

Steve's heart sunk.

Logan had also been the last Alpha Wolf before Steve. The lack of Royal blood in him meant a number of different things... _The rest of the pack wouldn't be afraid of the status on him..._ But he'd also been the last Alpha in a long while, generations passing with what seemed like a drought for the dynamic. What seemed like a _curse._ Generation after generation cut short, and none of the strong born to help unify, to help protect the pack. Only _fear_ when the first in 12, a runty and poor excuse for one had shown up in the _Royal_ bloodline.

Logan had seen it as a blessing, having watched each Monarch he'd helped guide... _die_ _prematurely_. But even he hadn't been able to resist the call and command of Steve's bloodline. And that was before the serum...

Since Steve, more Alphas had been born. He'd been happy to allow them to step in where he knew he shouldn't. In Logan's children especially, it seemed almost _all_ of them were Alphas. But his distinguished lineage made it all too easy to tell when those claws first manifested, or at least have a general prediction, based on how they presented themselves, what dynamic the young Wolves might present as. The rest of them weren't so young anymore, but Laura...

The pattern of her claws... while they may differ in slight ways amongst the bloodline, her foot claws... were typically a clearer indication that she would be an Omega...

And under normal circumstances, this would be cherished. Those claws were proof of a _fearsome_ protective nature she would likely grow into. Omegas were protected and valued just like any other member of the pack... _among Wolves..._

But the other part of her, with what her bearer had been through... it was cause for concern.

Logan's children were not full blooded. And while many Lycans might still recognize them as pack, apart from the rare lineage, the differences in them showed.

Some might call them _Hell Hounds..._

“She's already been _Blood Christened_... left a note... didn't bother meeting me... I can only guess he knew and—... we never really discussed it, maybe briefly, but...”

“You're fighting again?”

Logan gave a huff, gesturing to Laura as she put her claws away and her shoes back on, walking back over to him.

“When isn't he mad at me?”

“He's always wanted to know about you...”

“Some things are better left buried...”

Steve gave a sigh at Logan's response. The old Wolf had always been... closed off. Even with those he loved, and in some cases, _especially_... but _why_ he was here...

“What do you want me to do?”

The old Wolf seemed to look fondly at the little girl, the same way he'd looked at his other pups when they were still young. A genuine, if somewhat hidden smile, showing just how much he loved and cared for his family, even if he never really wanted to show any bit of that softer side of himself. It faded...

He looked tired. Older than the last time Steve had seen him, which wasn't so far off.

“I know you... haven't considered this in a long while. But if you were to... recognize... _Lustrate_ her as, _officially _as _**pack**__... _They might just leave her alone...”

Steve was surprised... he'd recognized and formed a pack link with all of Logan's pups. At the bare minimum. The old Wolf was surprisingly traditional when it came to the more ceremonious aspects of their culture, and fairly respectful and appreciative of others. All of them had been formally Blood Christened on the other end. But not once had he asked Steve to _officially_ Lustrate _any_ of them.

While it could seem like a simple favor, it was something that would require _rebuilding_ the pack _entirely_. And using his connection to the pack to have her recognized by and linked to _all of them_. Something formerly used to ensure the safety of any new pups born, but the ceremony needing for them to be a minimum of 3 years old to run with the pack, and a full moon. They were also often a means to strengthen the bonds between children and parents, as well as his people with his own bloodline. _But with the fear they held—._

On occasion... maybe to welcome a newcomer...

Logan never asked for this. His _people_ never asked for this. _Not anymore... _But then, he hardly gave them the chance to, _dissolving_ the pack like he did... Still, it stood a favor that Logan would very well understand the implications of. No simple feat. He understood perfectly how Steve had felt in regard to the pack.

He'd have no light reasons for asking this...

“What aren't you telling me?”

“_Steven..._”

He had to stop the gasp at the sudden tone. Logan was no stranger to conflict. On the contrary, in most cases, he even welcomed the challenge. More than willing to tear someone apart to protect his own... But Steve _knew_ that tone. All too well. Whatever _else_ there was, he wasn't gonna budge.

“... You really think it'll help?”

“I'm one Wolf. And I'm getting old... Her siblings... I know they could protect her, but they'd still be... _vulnerable_... I doubt they'd care about losing a few of their own to get to her.”

Steve took a breath, staring at the little girl. The weight of guilt bubbling up in his belly as the thought of... _his own pup_... crossed his mind. Logan seemed to notice. He'd always been more observant than others might realize. And when Steve had been growing up... _especially_.

“You don't have to give an answer right now, I—... I know what I'm asking you... I just...”

Steve stared at him a moment. He was just a parent... _protecting his pup..._ Just looking for the best way to do that and Steve... He looked up at the little girl.

“_Tar?_”

(_Come?_)

Laura looked up at him before walking over. Logan furrowed his brows a bit.

“Did you...?”

“Only a little, but just a suggestion. Chance she can reject it... but it's in our blood, right? She should be familiar with the rhythm of the language if not the words themselves... but the extra push should calm her.”

Logan kept quiet as he saw his daughter responding to the subtle command. As he saw her reacting to the Alpha...

Dealing with pups took careful attention to instinct and patience. Steve let her scent him cautiously, holding a hand out for her to do just that. She flinched and her eyes changed, a tiny growl slipping at the unfamiliarity when Steve moved too suddenly. A red glow in them and the pupils slit and glowing within, like reflecting light but brighter. He could guess... she might have inherited more than just the claws...

Steve waited patiently.

When she saw that he didn't respond, wasn't making himself a threat or perceiving her as one, she seemed to calm a bit. If somewhat pouting, maybe not from guilt but not being seen as a challenge. Steve had to stop himself from smiling a bit. It wasn't the most uncommon reaction, pups did sometimes have trouble recognizing new Alphas beyond family. Especially Omega pups. But it also hadn't been uncommon for Logan's pups in particular, the other part of their blood giving them a much stronger sense of caution.

He let her reach out to his fingertips and take his hand in her own, allowing her to examine and sniff it. Logan seemed a bit uneasy. They probably could have expected the next reaction, but Steve had been used to it by now.

When she seemed satisfied enough with the scent, she opened her mouth, teeth sharp, and bit down. Wouldn't be the first time he'd been bit, least of all in a while.

“_Laura—!_”

Steve shared a look with Logan to let him know it was okay, he was... pretty damn immune to most venoms by now. He let her take the bit of blood. But it did help calm her and was enough for her to recognize what she'd done before seeming to show a bit of guilt and lapping at the wound she'd made. Steve held his arms open to let her come closer and express that guilt, tiny sniffs and huffs that he soothed before scenting her back.

He knew he was much older than most of Logan's children, but it always felt like they were little siblings. And he was still wondering what it might be like with his own pup...

He let her scent him more fully. She calmed down as she did. It would be a couple days before she fully recognized him and a pack link was formed, but it was a good sign. A few of Logan's kids had completely run away from Steve after the first scenting. Laura didn't move away from him though, she just cuddled further in.

Logan let out a breath in relief at the reaction. But... he raised a brow.

“Laura...?”

She looked over but otherwise didn't move. Logan sighed.

“_Laura..._”

That was the point where she climbed Steve and hissed at her father. Certainly less of a _Wolf_ behavior. And Steve knew he had to hold in the laugh if _he_ didn't want to be in trouble.

“So... I think I can see her bearer in her...”

Logan narrowed his eyes and Steve _almost_ let the snort escape.

“I um... I can take her outside for some fresh air, maybe a walk, if that might help? Forming the link will still be some time, but I'd say she's already making good progress...?”

“_You do that..._”

.oOo.

Logan took a breath once he heard the door click in the distance, knowing Steve was gone. He'd heard him pause to speak to the Faerie. Light words about who the guest and little girl were...

He'd heard the little scuffs of claws on the ground from the _lapin..._ though he supposed not really one by the scent. He waited a moment after Steve was gone before speaking.

“You gonna eavesdrop all day, or come talk to me?”

At that point, the sprite that had been hiding in the room left its spot, going back to Bucky. And the Faerie walked in with an expression of guilt on his face that Logan had maybe come to be too familiar with, and enough to know it wasn't something Bucky deserved to feel. Not in this scenario...

He stared for a moment, just observing his features and trying to spot any differences... and he'd found a few, but none significant enough to pretend he might be a different person. _And the scent on him..._

“_I'm so sorry about Itsu—._”

The words stopped Logan and he tensed his jaw at the mention. There was a worry on Bucky's face. Like he wanted to ask, wanted to say something else, but was too ashamed to... It was like seeing that little kid he knew all over again. The both of them, too young, too stupid, and _knowing_ they're in trouble.

He'd suspected...

So many times, he'd wondered if Bucky had been captured, kept _alive_. _He'd fallen, without wings—. _But so many things about him were _off._ _About the person he'd met then—. _And he'd never been able to get any _proof_. He wasn't gonna go out of his way to give Steve _hope_ only to have him break down with knowing Hydra had created some kind of _clone _of his mate... He was still having some trouble believing it was the same kid standing in front of him, and Steve... it was as if he didn't recognize him at all...

He needed a drink. Something strong. Luckily, Steve had some present in the drawing room. Along with a few clean glasses. Neither of them said anything, a calm and quiet, but slightly awkward atmosphere lingering. He turned to offer the kid a glass and got an even guiltier look in those big eyes of his, shaking his head. The reaction was expected...

Bucky couldn't speak. His words had been choked off and it was clear he was having trouble holding together.

Logan took a breath before taking a sip of the whiskey he'd poured.

“Don't worry about it... if you hadn't killed her, he might've—_don't... look at me like that._ I wasn't—*_sigh_*... His kind... believe in _mercy_ killing, pretty strongly if you'll recall... She'd lost her husband and the only thing that kept her going was... anyway, I'm not the person who'd need an apology for that. Let's not make this about that...”

He could see the shine of water in the kid's eyes. But he knew it would get him nowhere trying to convince the kid it wasn't his fault. That he didn't somehow _deserve_ to be hated for what had happened...

“You're pregnant...”

That did the trick. The shock and sudden flush on his face. More red than typical for one of the Fae. _Concerning... _But a change of subject stark enough to steer his mind from where it had been.

“_H-how can you...?_”

“I know what a mate outside of the Lycan species... pregnant with a Wolf pup smells like. And I can smell him all over you... He marked you...”

The blush only seemed to get deeper, richer. It was too strong a color for one of his kind, Logan could already tell that, _but his scent—._ He seemed fine but he... Bucky ran a hand over the bite mark on his neck. Distracted enough to nearly forget about it. In any other circumstance with... _with Steve_... he would have been overjoyed. Part of him was still... happy about the fact. But there was so much they hadn't talked about and still needed to. So many secrets kept, so much _lost_ between them... _So much he wished he could keep buried and just start over—_.

“You ask him to claim you?”

Logan had been taking another sip and his expression changed at Bucky's sudden change in heart rate and the shock in his eyes. The worry that suddenly spiked in his scent. Logan had caught all of it. And he knew if he didn't diffuse the assumption _fast—_.

“_He reacted on instinct! He didn't—... he didn't hurt me... He didn't... _He doesn't _know_...”

The anger that had been about to build quickly settled. But it never really left with Logan. Bucky heard the drink get put down before he saw the man's arms crossed and a passive but stern expression on his face.

“You're gonna have to explain that to me a bit better. What do you mean _he doesn't know_?”

Bucky couldn't help feeling guilty. He could hear the sprites whispering about how he shouldn't. How this wasn't his fault... but why should he believe them? They were supposed to guide him, help him... but they'd been known to grow corrupt. To tell the Fae they belonged to... only what they _wanted_ to hear subconsciously. He took a breath.

“I... came here a little over two... months ago. My sprites guided me here. But I didn't remember who he was, hardly myself... he didn't remember me, but we... It didn't matter at the time, just a means to an end. I was using him...”

“But now you do remember...”

Bucky nodded.

“And him?”

Bucky shook his head...

Logan remained calm, but it was clear he was thinking about the situation.

“So why did he bite you?"

The red came back to Bucky's cheeks as he thought back to the situation. Trying to think of an _appropriate _answer for his old mentor.

“He... we were... _um..._”

Logan raised a brow.

“It's... I think it's more complicated than what we were simply doing at the time...”

“Probably... you wanna explain that?”

Another breath.

“The first night I got here... that was when he got me pregnant. I didn't know what he was at the time or who, I was only desperate to get away from... them—.”

“_Who is '__**them**_'_?_”

“... _Hydra... I didn't know what else to do so I... he hardly has control anymore, on the full moon, and I—... I'd been planning to leave him—._”

“**Buck**.”

“... He wasn't thinking when it happened... we were just... I think it was a reaction from the _Wolf_ in him sensing the pregnancy before he did. Before I did. Maybe even... that I wanted to leave... _But more than that... I think that part of him... was completing the bond..._”

Logan seemed to tense his jaw before taking a breath. It wasn't anywhere _near_ ideal... He'd never wanted a situation that would... _twist_ what they had when he'd always known it to be so _pure_... He never wanted a situation that might _hurt_ them. But he also understood _exactly_ how a _Wolf's_ instincts worked. And _exactly_ what Steve had been going through since the serum. _And after he'd lost—..._

“You said he doesn't remember.”

“No... he doesn't...”

“But _you _do. You can't tell him?”

“_No—_no... If only it were that simple. Telling him could _hurt_ him. He didn't simply lose his memories, they were _taken_ from him, and even then, it's still far more complex than that. It's more like... his mind _can't_ make the connection between who _I_ am and the person he used to love. _So it's just me who's gone_... like I can't be _recognized. _I don't know what spells she used... or what it will take to fully unravel them. But I _can't_ risk hurting him. Not like that...”

Smart kid. Even without knowing what Steve had been through... he knew to be cautious for what _could_ happen. _What had happened..._

If Logan had to guess, she probably had something to do with this. He'd never trusted the bitch. But then, she never liked him either, and he could guess why. He'd always protected his pack, never made it easy for her. But now he could say without a doubt that what she did was nothing more than sabotage.

And he'd be damned if he sat by and let it work. These kids were his family. Wolves protected their own.

Logan eased his stance and took another sip as the thoughts ran through him. As he looked at the little Fae in front of him, still seeing that kid but knowing he was far from one anymore. Wondering what he'd been through...

_Remembering..._

“Is it really you?”

Bucky looked stunned a moment before giving a hesitant nod.

“Why would you... ask that?”

“You smell different.”

Bucky gave a slight frown as he saw the Wolf taking out a cigar to light, opening one of the windows in the room. He walked over and quickly took it from him. Something _was_ wrong, there was something he wasn't telling.

“Maybe that's because you _numb_ your senses any chance you get with things like this.”

He set it down as the old Wolf looked at him, one brow raised and a faint smile and fondness in his eyes before it turned to an even fainter, hidden sorrow. And he spoke.

“Every time I saw you... I didn't know it was you. You smelled different. Similar... but _different_. It's not just Steve on you, that's pretty much always been there, since you were kids. Just a lot stronger now... this though... It's somethin' else... and it's not the pregnancy either.”

Bucky's eyes widened. Lycans identified family, friends, loved ones, _pack... _all through scent. If the right scents weren't there, it raised alarms, red flags alerting them to the possibility of an imposter. Logan was choosing to trust him by telling him this, but it was more than likely, at least in part, responsible for Steve's inability to recognize him.

And if it was true... _he might never be able to..._

He tried to hold it in, the tears he could feel welling, the fear he could feel building.

“_Then why did you—...?_”

“Something in me... told me to trust that it was _you._.. First words you said to me were an apology for something you couldn't control...”

There was an omission of something in there, but he offered open arms as always, and Bucky couldn't stop the feeling. _Le Fae, he hated being this emotional..._ but he couldn't seem to stop it. At least he knew the reason. He'd missed the old Wolf. Had wondered if he'd ever see him again, _or if he'd be forgiven..._

“_I'm so sorry..._”

“Not your fault, kid...”

He buried himself in those arms and Logan just let him cry. A bit reminiscent of all times he'd gotten hurt while the old Wolf had been taking care of them... Bucky lost track of how much time had passed just being comforted, but he'd been able to sense Steve. And of course, the surprise and then confusion on his face was expected.

Laura went after Grant, who'd simply been relaxed in the room.

“Did I miss something?”

Logan gave a huff.

“_What don't you miss? _Yes.”

Bucky tried not to laugh at the words. Steve looked as if he were about to respond but didn't dare. His eyes shifting to his mate.

“You uh... you two know each other?”

Bucky gave a hesitant nod to his mate along with a faint smile, but he wasn't expecting the words from Logan.

“As a matter a fact, we do... he's the reason I was able to escape. Stryker... _Romulus_.”

He gave a faint smile when Bucky looked back up at him, surprised. _Was that true?_ _He remembered that project—. _But if it was, it was something Bucky still didn't _fully_ remember. Most of his own memories had been taken through science and torture. Whatever spells had been there were broken on his own side, just fragments still missing... if he could get them back. Steve looked a bit surprised but gave his own soft smile at the fact. Logan let him go to Steve as Laura seemed to find her way back to her father, Grant in arms.

“You coulda told me you bonded. _By the way. _May help a bit to have Laura get to know your mate. You also coulda _waited_ a bit before knocking him up.”

Steve gave a breath but nodded. Yeah, he kinda figured...

Logan reached out a hand to his little girl, she sniffed him and pouted but otherwise let him pet her. Or, she would have, if she hadn't ducked under his arm to grab the cigar just the hand it to him. It was likely she'd been around him for _enough_ time by now, but she stood there as if waiting to be rewarded after the fact. He couldn't help smiling at her before following through, and then lighting up the cigar. Stopping them just before they left.

“Steve.”

Steve paused, a short nod to let Logan know he still had his attention.

“You know you're in trouble, right?”

He could only sigh in response.

.oOo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fucking love me a very 'dadly' Logan<3<3<3 look at him and all his glorious dadliness~<3<3<3 ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> he's got a story~ care to take a guess~<3?
> 
> on a few side notes, again, CLICK THE LINK. FOR THE LOVE OF SATAN PLEASE.
> 
> but~, i realized why i despise bottom Steve so much, and it's pretty much the same exact reason that endgame is so fucked
> 
> they completely castrate his character... among other things~
> 
> like gimme my rebel king, damn
> 
> apart from that, i have a confession... you may see a staron fic at some point from me in the future... the guilt... it is strong, but also SPITE, so much fucking spite... forever a salty ass bitch~, what can i say~? anyone got any ideas for who might i give bucky boo to love as i have him play matchmaker~? thinking of crack ships honestly, lol
> 
> and of course, won't be for a LONG while, i still got these piles of stucky lovey dovey shit to finish and HOOOOO BOI ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> but also~ my ASSHAT of a friend CHEATED. bitch thinks to send me the amy lee rendition of 'sally's song' (look it up if you've never heard it~ HNGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH~<3<3<3) and THEN?
> 
> tells me it's pretty much 'Sharon's song now... and I'm just like... BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH BECAUSE ALSO???
> 
> PAINFULLY FUCKING ACCURATE!!!
> 
> UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, it almost feels like an obligation, a duty, something honorable you know? but at the same time i'm excited and i have to admit that, lol, my friend is also a stucky fan (though she can't with the hardcore stuff, heheheheheh), but she's been getting urges to draw truly *epic* renditions of some staron art that might be truly disrespectful to steggy for once and oh, i am just... it sounds fucking *delicious*~<3<3<3 ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> but apart from that, no one ever seems to care about sharon, but she's actually a really fucking excellent character, and me being stuck in the stucky mess not noticing all the shit that went down well... least i can do right? that's the guilt for you. and I will definitely be giving her some well deserved justice even in my stucky fics, there are almost 60 years of history behind this character and her relationship with steve, and yeah, gonna go out on a limb and say that deserves some respect, especially compared to what's been given
> 
> villainize someone who deserves it instead~ especially based on claims and accurate canon renditions, no~? ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> it's still fucking gross what was done to Emily, so definitely PLEASE follow that link, share, reblog, anything you can, send angry karen emails for all i care, but if you're looking for a basic summary of what happened~?
> 
> Hayley Atwell turned Peggy into an abusive fucking psychopath towards Sharon and Steve, and she actively manipulated her fans into spreading hatred and bullying Sharon/Staron fans, all so she could get an extra kiss from Chris Evans WHO DOESN'T FUCKING WANT HER MIGHT I ADD. And keep the spotlight on herself. After her show was cancelled. Because she's a spiteful piece of shit.
> 
> I'd say, she deserves no mercy~, but of course... there is a moral highroad her, described in the article... either way~
> 
> REAL PEOPLE WERE HURT FOR HER SAKE SO SHE COULD LIVE A FANTASY THROUGH FICTIONAL CHARACTERS! but you gais be the judge and tell me if that's okay or not... please read it if you can...
> 
> Yes... this has definitely been part of that 'rough' patch, and no, reading it will not be easy but it is necessary, we have a chance to do good. don't let it pass you by, especially when there's a chance more people could get hurt...
> 
> just something to consider, go give a staron/sharon fan a hug while you're at it, lol, my dark lord knows they need it...

**Author's Note:**

> [ *****EXTREMELY IMPORTANT PSA***** ](https://satanherfuckingself.tumblr.com/post/618261298721046528/hayley-atwell-publicly-adored-psychopath)
> 
> So... a little birdie sent me this. As the title suggests, please, please, _please_, click the link and read it. We _need_ to get the word out as fans, and hopefully make some minds change. Something bad happened. Something wrong is being considered something right. And in numbers, we'll have strength, but alone, this will just fall through the cracks...
> 
> _Please _read it, _please_ follow through, _please_ share it and spread the word as much as you can. [Retweet here.](https://twitter.com/Dorit0chriss/status/1262536667807854599) And _thank_ _you_ so much if you do, you have no idea how much every little person reading and reposting this will help. It is so important we get this message out there and noticed.
> 
> And of course~... thanks for reading~ ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))


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